A Lost Soul
by BrowncoatGrl
Summary: Mal lost a lot of men in Serenity Valley. Meeting the little sister of dead soldiers wasn't something he thought he'd have to do. But the 'verse never did spin in his favor. Set after the BDM. Rated T for adult situations/violence.
1. If I Save You, Will You Still Be Lost?

**A/N: Takes place after the events of _Serenity_.**

* * *

With seven well-armed men against him, Jayne and Zoe, there wasn't much Mal could do about what he was faced with. His shoulders tensed beneath his jacket and the urge to shoot the captain facing him was making his trigger finger itchy. The woman sauntered closer; her very walk told him that she hadn't been broken. She stood proud and tall and even the bruises visible on her couldn't hide her dignity. She was a loose cannon, but something in the other captain's arsenal had kept her under lock and key; something had made her a commodity and something more had made her accept that position.

She gave a tiredly seductive smile and the ceiling light highlighted the yellow-purple bruise on her jawline. Every nerve in his body was screaming for him to save her. She radiated confidence, but her body language spoke of harshness and jaded silence.

"Take her for the night—exchange for the coin I don't got; she's worth it. Call things even."

Mal glared at the other captain behind a practiced smile, "Even."

Captain Yan smiled before turning his eyes onto the woman, "And we'll have a talk about being presentable for guests in the morning."

Mal saw a flinch come over the woman's features. It was barely there, nothing more than a glinting of anxiety, but it was there nonetheless. She was breathtaking, even with the obvious injuries. Her green eyes were bright but wizened. They'd seen too much for her age. Her brown hair was wavy and fell to just at the collarbone. She was ivory-skinned and almond-eyed with a round and open face.

"Feel free to avail yourself of our hospitality."

Mal nodded and gave one quick look to Zoe; she didn't say or do anything and only walked the opposite way with a confused Jayne in tow. The woman stayed at his side to lead him deeper into Yan's ship and didn't say a word. The bruises he could see spoke of unkind hands. The ones he couldn't see he knew were there by the limp in her step and the way she flinched to climb up stairs. Her bunk was at the front end of the ship, away from what he supposed were the crew quarters. Her room was spacious but Spartan. One trunk was in the corner and there was nothing besides that and a nightstand. The bed was clean and perfectly made. Although Mal had the sneaking and terrible gut feeling that she was never in it.

She shut the door behind them and gave that same tired smile that made his heart break in two to see. She kissed him, melted against him, and it was too amazing at first for him to remember that this wasn't what he'd wanted. He unlocked his lips and backpedaled and found the bed at the back of his knees, nearly forcing him to sit.

"No, this ain't the way this works."

She stared at him, "If I don't show you a good time… Just make this easier on both of us and let me do my job."

"I won't be taking advantage of you. Not a bit. And I don't plan on letting you get beat for it, either."

She scoffed, "Really."

"Really. You have a name?"

She eyed him, arms crossed over her chest, "Adalyn."

"Last name?"

"Why do you care?"

" 'Cause ain't no woman in the world deserves to be beat for not trading her flesh. And you don't seem the type to be here of your own free will. So I don't plan on leaving you here of mine."

"I'm not worth the risk, Captain. I'm a fugitive."

"That don't bother me."

"Yan won't let me go. It's not worth a firefight over. So let me do my job and when you leave in the morning you can save me a beating by saying I did it well."

He looked at her. Such grim determination not to cause more trouble for anyone. Fugitive or no, no soul deserved a life like this. Couldn't much be called one, either. Mal hated himself for thinking, just for a second, that he should let her do what she'd been told to.

"You don't talk like us. Reckon you're from the core."

"I was."

"How a fugitive?"

"Captain. Don't. It's not worth it. I'm long past saving."

He sat on the bed and was grateful that she stayed standing, "How long?"

"Ten years. Or two months, depending on how you look at it."

He didn't know what to make of that so he only nodded.

She stared at him, "You a terrorist?"

"What? No."

"Browncoat?"

"That obvious?"

"You're carrying a service pistol from the war. I doubt it was Alliance issued."

"Is that why you don't want my help? I'm a Browncoat? Fought against your shiny core world?"

"Being from a core world doesn't make me Allied. My brothers were Browncoats. My whole family was, actually. So, no. That's not why."

"Then why?"

"You're too good a man to be mixed up in all of this. I don't need a death on my conscience. And that's what would happen if you tried to help me. So, again, just let me do my job. Please."

"Don't think I could live with myself if I did."

Her eyes were haunted, "Could you live with yourself if you didn't?"

The bruises on her made him wince and think of what would happen if Yan ever found out. If there were ever a rock and a hard place, it was here and now and he hated to think of the nagging conscience he would have either way.

"I can get you out of here. My ship's still docked and we have the room for another body. Won't be any trouble at all. But you know this ship better. If we're gonna sneak you out, it'll be because you know how to get out."

"I can't risk it."

He sighed. Arguing wasn't what he wanted to do and he could tell it wouldn't make a difference with her. She was too lost and resigned to fight. If this would work, he'd have to convince her some other way.

"Do you have salve?"

Her brow furrowed but she nodded. She reached into the little nightstand and pulled out a small jar of the medicinal rubbing lotion. It was fruity smelling. Mixing with her muskiness, it was intoxicating. She handed it over and he opened it.

"Sit down."

She hesitated. He sighed, "I'm not gonna knife you. Sit down."

She sat down facing him and he dabbed a little of the lotion onto her jawline bruise. She winced and pulled away with questioning eyes. He ignored it and gently rubbed the lotion against battered skin. She stayed stiff and vigilant but allowed him to move on to the next wound. It was a bite mark on her shoulder and it looked fresh and new. The broken skin had only just clotted and he hated to think of the pain she'd been through. When he pulled the strap of her tank top off her shoulder to reach a large bruise under it, she relaxed ever so slightly.

"You have gentle hands."

He tried to smile, "Now I know you ain't been touched right 'cause my hands are 'bout as calloused as they come."

He found grip marks on her upper arms and those, too, were gently mended. The lotion might not do much, but it would cool the pain he had no doubt she was feeling.

"Got a doc on board could fix you up right, get you back to new again."

"I don't do doctors."

"Still, feel better if he could look at you. Feel loads better knowing that after he fixed you, you wouldn't be beat again."

"If wishes were horses…" she said quietly.

"You wouldn't have to stay on with me. I could drop you somewhere safe. Here, turn 'round."

She did, putting her back to him. He lifted her tank a little and saw streaks of purple across her side. He gingerly touched one and she hissed in pain. He sighed again to see the utter destruction Yan had put her through. And he doubted it was just Yan. There were no women on his crew; likely each of the boys had done their fair share, too.

"Broken ribs," he said.

"Just a few," she hissed again when he rubbed a bit of lotion on them. The lotion he'd put on her other wounds had cooled the skin and he could see goosebumps on her arms. The ship was chilly and he doubted she had much in the way of warm clothes. The tank and cargo pants she was in were thin material. The tank showed her battered body and he would be sure to scout for better clothes from Kaylee or Zoe when he got her aboard.

"Will there be a guard out in the docking bay?"

"Zanib. He's vigilant. He won't be drunk."

"Which one's he?"

"Dark skin. Tall, too. Had the BP 245 across his chest."

The description of the gun rang home the image of the man he would probably be facing if he tried to sneak her out. He doubted he would come out on top if the man decided to throw a blow. He heard her pant again with pain and he lightened his touch on her ribs.

"Sorry."

"It's fine."

There was something about her innate strength and fear, resolution, that made him wish she'd never been forced into the life she was leading. He still felt the honorable need to protect her even though it was clear that she was able to protect herself mentally if not physically. For all the bruises and wounds, she was stronger than most.

He capped the salve and put it aside. She pulled down the corner of her tank and rolled her shoulder. He could hear it crack a bit in the joint. But she seemed relaxed. Her head hung for a moment.

"Thank you."

"Weren't nothing. Best way to thank me would be to let me get you outta here."

"If you wait until one, it'll be easier. Only Zanib will be on duty."

"One it is then. 'Til then, you get sleeping. I'll keep watch."

She turned to look at him, placing her hand high on his thigh and he saw some pure softness in her eyes, "There are better ways to thank a gentle man."

* * *

Zoe kept her eye on the console. If Mal was going to get the poor soul out, he would send a signal first. That signal might come in the form of gunshots close to the airlock, but it would be a signal. Seeing that woman even for the few minutes she did, she knew what was running through Mal's mind because it had been going through hers, too. Even with that woman's resolute survival mentality, Zoe wanted to spare her more bruises that she knew were from unloving actions. She hated to think what might happen if the captain got caught trying to get the woman out.

River came up beside her and sat in the copilot's seat. Zoe looked over at her and saw wistful eyes in that face. The girl curled up on the seat, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Her black hair cascaded around the pale skin of her legs.

"Long lost soul."

"What?"

She laid her chin on the top of a knee, "Lost soul."

"That woman over there?"

"She doesn't know everything yet. Things are unraveling too fast for her to keep track of the stitch."

"You're gonna have to speak normally for this, River," Zoe sighed.

The girl sighed, "She thinks we're the knight in shining armor. Armor's dented. Rusted away. She won't be happy to see it."

"You saying we shouldn't take her on?"

"Saying we're not what she thinks."

Zoe looked back to the console, "No one ever is."

With that, she decided she'd better go and get the others ready in case they had to haul out of there in a hurry. She stopped at the top of the stairs to look at River. The girl smiled at her.

"I'll be here if he calls; make the getaway safe."

Zoe nodded, grateful for the girl's observance. She headed down towards the infirmary to find Simon categorizing his supplies.

"Might have a patient coming in before morning."

"The woman?"

"She's walking, but that doesn't mean she's not hurt. We get her on, you need to make sure she's healthy."

"Of course."

Zoe left it at that. She hoped the woman checked out okay. She hated to think of how bent on the warpath the captain might become if she'd been hurt in more than one wrong fashion.

* * *

Popping open the top of the trunk, Adalyn pulled aside some meager clothes aside to find a sniper rifle and handhelds. She quickly strapped a holster onto each thigh, tying them off above the knee. The sniper rifle she loaded onto her back. Mal smiled.

"You had these all along and never used them?"

"No point in killing everyone until you can get away from the bodies."

Her dim and realistic view made him shiver on the inside. His own service pistol stayed close to his hand and he sincerely hoped it wouldn't be used.

She stuffed some personal belongings in a tote messenger bag and it was bulging by the time she closed it. She closed the trunk and looked at it for a moment before turning away. With her leading the way, Mal followed. They made it down to the docking bay before a gruff hand landed on Mal's shoulder.

"Thinking on sneaking away?"

Mal didn't turn around and in all honesty didn't have time before Adalyn pulled her gun and aimed it squarely over his shoulder. The hand on his shoulder loosened up and Mal stepped closer to Adalyn.

"You shoot me, you'll never be able to run far enough," Zanib said with a thick smile.

Adalyn smiled, "Won't be a problem."

She pulled the trigger.

Mal jumped out of his skin at the unexpected shot. Zanib's body fell to the ground and it was the hole in his forehead that obviously killed him. Adalyn watched dispassionately when the body crumpled. She holstered her gun and found Mal's stare on her.

"What?"

"Shooting wasn't in the plan."

"Well, not like he didn't deserve it."

She quickly brought both guns up and Mal wasn't far behind. They aimed at the oncoming crew. Yan was at the front and he looked once at Zanib's body before looking at the barrels trained on him. He smiled.

"Trying to take her?"

Mal readjusted his grip on the pistol, "Not trying. Doing. She's coming with me."

Yan eyed her, looked her over, "Fine. Have her. She's not worth the trouble anyway. Harold, get her trunk. Wouldn't want her to leave her precious things behind."

Mal stayed cautiously alert and optimistic. If Yan was going to just let them walk out, the girl was more likely not to shoot anyone with that clearly happy trigger finger of hers.

"She tell you why she's all the way out here?"

"Not my concern."

"Should be. You're taking on a killer. Some government hand gone awry. You and yours had better start locking your bunks at night. Might kill you."

The corner of his eye saw Adalyn readjust her grip on both pistols. But she wasn't shooting. She was waiting. She didn't know which pack of animals she would be fed to or if she would be allowed to survive. Mal straightened.

"Me and mine won't give her a reason to."

Yan smiled and gave a low, inhuman chuckle. Harold dumped the trunk he'd gone to fetch. The captain eyed her for a moment longer.

"Take her and get off my ship."

With the trunk at their feet, Mal quickly decided he'd rather let Adalyn carry it so he could keep his gun hand and the attached gun trained on the crew. She noticed his hesitation and quickly holstered both guns to lift the half-empty trunk off the deck. They backed away towards the airlock and only when he'd locked the door did he lower his aim. He hit the intercom.

"Get us out of here," he said calmly.

The ship rattled and disentangled itself from the _Titan_. He holstered his gun and looked to Adalyn. He gently took the trunk and she stared at him for a moment. The interior cargo door opened and he saw Zoe and the others waiting for them. River, evidently on the bridge, was the only one not there. Adalyn held fast onto her messenger bag at her front and followed Mal silently when he led her past the group to the passenger bunks. He opened the biggest one, what used to be Simon's, and gently put her trunk down in the corner.

She stayed vigilant and stiff, like she'd been before. He tried to smile, "You get yourself settled in. We got food up in the galley. Give you a tour in the morning, if you'd like. But let the doc take a look at you. Make sure you're in working order."

"I don't need a doctor."

"Feel better if you were seen to proper."

She nodded slowly and walked over the threshold to the bunk. Looking around, she sat on the bed and turned those green eyes to him.

"Thank you."

"Shiny. I'll be upstairs if'n you need me."

He left her there and closed the door most the way to give her some privacy. The others were in the common, waiting for him. He quickly trod up the stairs and they followed. He poured himself tea in the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

"How is she?" Zoe asked.

"Rattled, I think. But steadier than most would be."

"They just let you walk off with her?" Jayne sat at the table noisily.

Mal didn't want to think about what Yan had said. It was likely just some ploy to keep him from taking her, but then to think of the exact term he'd used on her…the way she'd just shot Zanib…

"Did at that. Seems I'm all intimidating with guns."

Kaylee smiled, "Real heroic of you, Cap'n. What's her name?"

"Adalyn. Name's Adalyn. Let her settle in for the night. Might be she won't come out 'til morning. Doc, if you could check on her 'tween now and then, be appreciated. Gal's professed an unkeeness for medics, so tread soft."

"I'll take care of it, of course."

"Rest of you, get to bed. Got an appointment to keep tomorrow. Best be awake for it."

One by one, they shuffled off. Heading for their own bunks, Mal stayed behind to sit and drink his tea. Zoe stayed standing for a moment. She wanted to say something. He knew that little shift she did with her feet. But she must've thought better of it 'cause she left him there alone in the kitchen.

He didn't know what to think of Adalyn. She'd shot the man she'd shot, but he couldn't say he didn't agree with it. Most especially if there was some wound he hadn't seen that Zanib had caused. He hated to think he'd put his crew in danger, but the calm after the storm made him rethink what Yan had said as lies. His eyes caught sight of bare feet. His first thought was River, but it occurred to him that he was facing the engine room, not the bridge.

He raised his gaze to see Adalyn.

"Everyone go to sleep already?" she asked.

"Did. I could get 'em all back up here. Make introductions."

"No. That's okay. In the morning, I guess."

"Doc should be stopping by before long."

"Yeah, I passed him on the stairs. Dark-haired boy, right?"

"That'd be him. He's good at his trade. He'll take care of you."

She nodded, the topic clearly not one she wanted to discuss. She crossed the room and stood near to him, looking down at him.

"I'm grateful, Captain. And what Yan said—"

"Don't matter none. Don't care about your past so long as you don't try to kill us all. You don't seem like the type, so I'm gonna discount his little insult. If and when there's trouble, then I'll need to know details. 'Til then, it's your life. All I care 'bout right now is that you're safe."

He expected to see some brightness on her face, but all he saw was the shadowed and resigned face he'd seen on Yan's ship.

She slid smoothly onto his lap before he had much chance to realize she was doing it. Her lips were sweet and he hated himself for giving in, even if it only was for a moment. He pulled away and tried to ignore his reacting body.

"I am grateful, Captain. And I'll do whatever you tell me. I'm yours. Hurt me, have me, share me…anything you want."

He shivered on the inside. What had those bastards done to her to make her give up one torment only to willingly accept another? Her deft fingers were unbuttoning his shirt and just the warm brush of them on his skin made his breath catch. He caught her hands and held them at bay, regaining his control behind closed eyes. He exhaled deep and found her desperate gaze.

"You don't have to do this. The deal was I keep you safe. No strings attached. _Dong ma_?"

There was a quick flash of embarrassment over her features followed by relief. It was hidden well and, if he hadn't been looking for it, he wouldn't have seen it. She stared at him for a moment before she leaned in again. With one soft, tender kiss on the cheek, she pulled back slowly.

"Thank you."

He nodded hastily, the warmth of her body still overtop his and making his honor harder to obey. He let go of her hands, she slid off his lap as smoothly as she'd slid on and gave a little smile, one honest little grateful smile, before walking back to the stairs in the rear corridor.

* * *

Simon saw movement in the top of his vision and looked up to see Adalyn walking down the stairs to the bunk she'd been given. He stepped out of the infirmary. She was definitely hiding more wounds than the ones he could see. Her gait spoke of hip trouble, her wince on the stairs that he'd seen told him her legs might be hurt. And just the bruises on her arms and jaw made him wonder how long she'd been on the other ship as a useful diversion. The bite mark on her shoulder had him worried, too. It looked infected.

"Adalyn."

She turned around to look at him and stayed near her door, "Hi."

"It's Simon. My name's Simon. If you want to come in here, I can take a look at your wounds."

She crossed her arms over her chest, "I don't do doctors. Or medlabs, for that matter."

He nodded, "I can come to your bunk, if you'd prefer."

"If I have to."

"I promise I'll keep it quick."

She didn't seem to care that he'd tried to lighten the situation. She only turned her back on him and walked into her room, leaving the sliding door open. He quickly gathered the portable supplies he could and loaded them into his bag. It would've been easier to do the exam in the infirmary, but he doubted she would be in there any time soon of her own free will. Although the door was open, he gave a gentle knock before going in. She was sitting on the bed.

He shut the door behind him and pulled out the chair under the small desk. He laid open his bag and reached for the injector.

"A blood sample. For the computer. It'll let me see if you have any infections."

She nodded. He drew the vial of blood easily and she didn't wince when he pulled the needle out. She held the little square of gauze to the prickpoint without being told. With his gloves on, he gently found her wounds. All in all, four broken ribs, a fractured upper arm, bruises almost everywhere, what looked to be a healing entry wound from a bullet over her hip, and some bruised bones in her legs. He silently healed each the best he could. The entry wound wasn't infected, but he doubted the bullet had been taken out.

"Do you know if the bullet was removed?" he asked.

"No. I was out."

"If you want me to do a scan—"

"No, thank you."

He nodded, pulling off his gloves, "The bite on your shoulder needs to be kept clean. I have antibiotics for it. I'd like you to take them for the next few days. The weave should keep it from scarring. The ribs will be sore for a while longer, but they don't need to be set."

"I set them myself a few days ago."

He paused and tried to keep the surprise from his voice, "You set them?"

"I couldn't breathe right otherwise."

"I have pain medication, if you want it. If they start hurting, I'd like to know. I know our food out here isn't great, but if you could eat more than usual for a week, it'd be good for you."

She nodded, "Thanks."

He stood, "If you need anything, let me know. Or if you just want to talk."

"I'll be fine, thanks. Are there showers?"

"Behind the infirmary."

She only nodded.

He gathered up his supplies and shoved them into the bag. He left, stopping at the doorway once before thinking better of trying to say anything else. Her soft-spoken thanks made him nod and he left her there. Whatever her unkeeness for doctors, he hadn't realized it had been this bad. He doubted the captain had either otherwise he wouldn't have sent him after her. He sat in his infirmary. He wanted to run the blood through the computer. A full mapping would take the better part of the night; best start it so it would be done in the morning.

* * *

The water was lukewarm and even that was being gracious. She didn't really care though. It was clean. It was refreshing at such a low temperature. She put her arm against the stall and pillowed her forehead onto it, letting the water run down her batter and bruised body. Against her will, her eyes clouded over and stung with anguish.

She cried openly, sobbed painfully, and she loved every minute of it. She cried because her body was hers again. Cried because now, after tests and mutilating nights, she could consider herself free. Her sore and tired body could recover and her soul could be returned. She was free, finally.

And she didn't even know the name of the man who'd freed her.

* * *

Mal was surprised to see he wasn't the first one in the kitchen. Little Kaylee had strung out pots and pans, pulling out anything and everything to cook breakfast—which was mostly just protein mush. Although he was sure most of it would be inedible. Bless her for trying, though. He smiled and she beamed back at him.

"_Xiao mei mei_, you have a hankering for some food?"

"Thought maybe I could cook a big breakfast. Give Adalyn a good first morning."

"Did have a similar plan myself. Don't know what I'd do without you, lil' Kaylee."

She spooned out bowls of heated and spiced protein mush, "Run this ship into the ground, more'n like. And you wouldn't be nearly as happy."

He smiled back at her, "No, I wouldn't be. That man of yours up yet?"

"Gettin' dressed when I came up. Think he had to shave, still."

Mal's brow furrowed and he sidled up beside her to get some coffee, "Boy shaves?"

She gently smacked him. He quickly stole a biscuit that she'd managed not to burn and avoided the stirring spoon that came after his thieving hand. He took to the table with coffee and biscuit in hand and sat there, finding quickly that the biscuit hadn't been burnt, but it hadn't been entirely cooked, either. He swallowed down the mushy and wet center with a larger sip of coffee.

Adalyn came up from the other side; her outfit was the same as the day before only with a different top. Mal smiled at her.

"Good morning, there."

She almost smiled, "Morning."

Kaylee beamed at her, like she did at everyone, "Hey! Made some breakfast for you."

"Adalyn, this here's my mechanic. Damn near cheeriest person you'll meet in the verse. Kaylee."

They shook hands before Kaylee handed over a bowl, "Pleased to meet you. Thanks."

"Oh, you won't be thanking me when you taste it. Ain't much but protein."

"Doc catch up with you last night?"

"He did, yes."

"Ain't he the greatest? All smart. Great bedside manner."

Mal held his coffee cup to his lips, "Only 'cause he's sleeping in yours."

Kaylee glared at him while he smiled at her. She threw a bit of uncooked dough at him and he batted it away.

Adalyn stayed quiet with bright eyes watching the exchange. She started to eat her bowl of mush and Mal felt a pang of pity to see that she wasn't making faces, only eating as fast as humanly possible. Either she'd been starved, or she was that far gone.

"Thought I heard breakfast," Zoe walked in, taking a pre-scooped bowl of mush.

"Zoe, he's teasin' me."

The look she gave him was almost serious, "Be civil."

"Plenty civil. See? Civilized as they come. Zoe, Adalyn; She's my first mate."

"Good to see you up an about. How you feeling?"

Adalyn shrugged, "As well as can be expected, I suppose."

Simon walked in about the time she shrugged and he pecked Kaylee on the cheek before stealing away a bowl of breakfast mush. Mal smiled to see him even doing that; considering how tight-wound he'd been, his little mechanic had near broke him of that bashfulness. He stayed standing at the counter, unable to keep a pleased face when he dug into the protein. He swallowed it down and reached for a biscuit. He used that to scoop up the next biteful.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he looked to Adalyn.

"Fine. Thank you."

If Mal hadn't known she didn't like doctors before, he would've gotten it in the ice from her voice. Simon only nodded and looked at her empty bowl.

"You should eat more…if you can."

She looked once to Mal, "I didn't want to ask…"

"Nonsense. Get yourself more proteiny goodness."

She stood and scooped out more. Kaylee smiled, "Ooh, someone likes my cooking."

Adalyn didn't say much, just started eating the moment she sat back at the table.

Mal leaned back in the chair, "You see your sister yet this morning?" he looked to Simon over the top of his mug.

"On the bridge when I looked."

"Here now."

He almost spilled his coffee for the gentle voice that whispered in his ear. He spun half around in his chair to see the little thing smiling and rocking back and forth on her feet.

"Be docking in four hours. No communication with Badger. He's staying quiet."

"Thank you for the update, lil' albatross."

She only smiled wider and helped herself to a bowl. Kaylee sat and River sat next to her. River dunked her biscuit into the mush and tried to catch the dripping bit with her tongue before tanking a bite out of it.

"River, Adalyn. She's my pilot."

Adalyn actually smiled at the girl's antics and Mal realized her smile was something like Kaylee's; it could light up rooms when it was genuine.

"You're young to be a pilot."

River shrugged, "I'm a genius. It's an issue."

"Only issue's that there ain't hardly any breakfast left," Jayne grumbled, moving over to the counter to find that all the bowls had been used up. He ended up just taking the pot and the stirring spoon to the table, eating with the utensil in his grip like a shovel.

"And this here's Jayne."

Jayne turned his eyes over to Adalyn and he gave a curt wave with the spoon in his hand, "So, you chose us over them? Must'a been bad over there if'n you chose us."

Mal glared at him. Adalyn only smiled thinly, "Well, I heard you all had breakfast…"

The bigger man swallowed down his bite and made a face at it, "Can't even be called that. We need food. Gettin' sick'n tired of mush."

Kaylee threw a biscuit at him, "Try that."

He dipped it in and Mal suspected that he'd gotten an undercooked one, too, by his face. He grabbed at the coffee Simon had poured himself and Simon only rolled his eyes before getting another mug. Mal smiled.

"Well, that looks to be about everybody. We could give you a tour, if you'd like."

"No. I'm okay. I don't want to get in your way."

"Not in the way. River, you feel up to handling that job?"

She smiled, "Blind leading the blind. I'll be done before we land."

"Sure then. Zoe, Jayne, when we do land, suit up. You're coming with to deliver the goods and the coin. As far as you, Adalyn, you can stay or go as you please."

She nodded and looked at her empty bowl for a moment before looking back at him, "I never did get your name."

He paused. He'd thought he'd mentioned it the night before, but evidently it hadn't come up, "Malcolm Reynolds."

She stared at him for a moment, "You were a sergeant in the war, right?"

He stopped his mug an inch from his lips, "You heard of me."

"Yeah. I did."

"Well, I'm honored. How'd you hear about me?"

"My brothers. They served under you."

"Oh, really? What were the names?"

"Mark and Jo. Santayana."

Mal's almost happy face fell when he put the names to deaths. He shared a glance with Zoe and her face was about as dim as his. The two men had been under his command.

"You're Hope?"

"I go by Adalyn. Hope's my first name."

"Well, it's definitely a small verse. Didn't think to ever be seeing their little sister. Definitely something coincidental."

The room was quiet beside his own voice. Adalyn smiled a little before going back to her bowl. She scraped out the remaining mush and then looked around the table.

"Thank you. For helping me."

"Not an issue," he answered a little quickly.

"Here, I can show you around the ship," River stood and waited.

Adalyn nodded and left her bowl there. River walked away with Adalyn in tow. Mal watched her go and found himself entirely ready to rethink chance and fate.

* * *

Simon walked up the bridge stairs slowly. His sister, being the charismatic person she was, was still giving Adalyn a tour of the ship. He doubted they would be at it for much longer but, then again, it had already been a half hour. He didn't know how much of the ship River could show off. Mal was sitting in the pilot's chair. The blood test had come back and Mal had asked to talk about the results. But still, every time he came up to the bridge, he felt out of place and adrift. Like it was still a forbidden zone. His bunk had changed, his romantic life had changed, his sister had gotten better, but he still felt ill at ease on the bridge.

"You wanted to talk about the blood test?" he asked.

Mal nodded, "Everything come back okay?"

"Besides from the trauma, she's fine. I ran the blood through PANEL (Pathogen Antibody and Neurotoxin Exemplar List) and she's got antibodies for all the major illnesses. No diseases or sickness. She's been well taken care of. From the look of her wounds, I'd say she was being mistreated for less than three months. She's a little malnourished but she'll be fine once she can get back another ten or fifteen pounds."

"She give you any problems?"

"Well, her not liking doctors was an understatement. I'd say she hates doctors. And infirmaries. I did the checkup in her bunk."

"I appreciate it, Doc. Anything we should know?"

Simon exhaled smoothly, "I was able to do a partial physical. She was too uncomfortable to push for a full examination. Seeing her wounds, though, I doubt she was…handled…lightly on the _Titan_. There could be internal trauma, but the mental trauma is more pressing. Until I do a full examination, I won't know."

Mal nodded like he hadn't been listening or hadn't understood. Simon desperately hoped he wouldn't have to completely explain why he wanted to do the full exam. But the captain looked at him and paused.

"Any idea on how to help her?"

"I was thinking that perhaps Inara could talk to her. If we see her while we're docked."

"Inara?"

"Companions are trained to deal with issues like this. Better than I am, at any rate. She might be able to get Adalyn to talk about what happened."

"You think the girl needs it?"

"I don't think it would hurt."

He nodded, looking back at the readouts on the panels ahead of him, "I'll see what she'd be willing for."

"I'm glad to hear that. I think she's stable, but I'm not too sure how I'd feel about her going through an experience like that alone."

"I think she's stronger'n you're giving her credit for. Girl's already lost her family."

Simon's brow furrowed, "Her brothers are dead, then?"

"Parents, too, far as I heard. Not like she's got anyone left."

"It's good that we're helping her, then."

"I hope so."

Simon turned to see Zoe walk onto the bridge. Her face was set and stoic, not that he imagined it would be anything else. He shuffled on his feet for a moment, quickly aware that she was silently asking him to leave.

"I'm going to do some more tests on her blood. See if anything comes up."

Mal ignored him, still watching the screens on the panels. He gave a quick nod of acknowledgement to Zoe before leaving the two of them there. He didn't like to think what they were talking about mostly because if it could have been said in front of everyone, Zoe would have said it in front of everyone.

His infirmary wasn't as alone as he thought it'd be. River was sitting on the side cot, idly swinging her legs.

"River. What are you doing here?"

"She's all alone. The knight in shining armor is a turning out to be a fallen angel."

"You mean Adalyn?"

"Not Adalyn. Hope. She's all alone."

"I think she wants us to call her Adalyn."

"But that's not who she is. Not anymore. Changed her."

"Loss can do that to people."

She stared at him, simple and making him feel dumb, "Not loss that does it, Simon."

"Then what?"

She sighed, "You'll find out. You all will. But not yet. She's not ready to show us."

"Did she at least like the tour?" he hoped changing the subject would keep them on equal turf and he wouldn't feel so incompetent.

"She misses open land. It's been so long since she's seen it."

"Maybe when we land she could come with us. Kaylee and I are going to the market. She's welcome to join us. So are you."

"I can ask."

* * *

He met her at the cargo bay ramp. He still looked the same, if not a little worn from the times. She felt awkward, so well dressed when he and his were barely getting by. She gave her smile and his was curt, at best.

"Captain," she said formally.

He nodded, "Grateful for you taking time to come over."

"Anything I can do to help."

He flashed a fake smile, "Generosity's always appreciated. Gal's trussed up in her bunk. Doc thinks she might be needing a talking-to in the womanly fashion."

She nodded. Cases like this were always sensitive. Sadly it was something Companions were always trained for. Most became great psychologists when they retired. The need for the training had been frowned upon for the simple fact that the despicable occurrence still happened. Sad as it was that another young woman had been made to go through months of it, she was inwardly grateful that Mal had taken her aboard _Serenity_. There was no better man for the job.

"Of course. I'll do whatever I can."

"Name's Adalyn. Santayana"

She nodded. He led her to the bunk where the woman was staying, silently walking away. She watched him go. Hard as it was for her, Inara knew it was hard for him, too. She didn't know if he'd ever forgive her. If he'd ever know or believe why she'd left. But those weren't the thoughts she needed. He'd asked her for help and that small gesture was enough to make her wonder. The day Malcolm Reynolds asked for her help was the day she started to reconsider things.

She knocked gently on the thin door. Adalyn answered the query in Chinese, granting her entry.

Inara was surprised by the girl's stature. The young woman had stood and was now surveying her. And Inara's blood ran cold. Adalyn's eyes were piercing, haunting. Never had Inara seen a woman with such grim determination.

"Can I help you?" she asked; her voice was steadier than Inara's would've been.

She put on her smile, mentally checking her posture and body language, "Yes. My name's Inara. I heard we had a new crewmember. I thought I'd come say hello."

"Hi."

The woman was already shutting down. Inara couldn't read anything off her. There was no tell-tale body language. Nothing for the Companion to go on.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

Those eyes were so hollow, "Of course."

Civility. The woman was civilized. She sat at her desk and polished a gun. Inara watched her for a moment while she took a seat on the foot of the bed.

"I though it best if I dropped by in case you planned to stay aboard _Serenity._ Were you? Planning on staying with _Serenity_?"

"I hadn't decided yet."

"She's a beautiful ship."

"Not one for ships."

"I understand. I prefer a beautiful landscape, myself. But Persephone has some lovely mountain trails, if you wished to get out."

"The captain sent you down here to see to me."

Inara lost her suave confidence for a terrible moment, "Excuse me?"

She only went on polishing her gun pieces, "The captain. He asked you to talk to me, didn't he?"

She nodded, "He did.

"I appreciate the gesture, but it's not necessary."

"The captain can be protective. He just wants to be sure you're well."

She smiled sadly, "So he talked a Companion into being my shrink. Comforting."

"You know I'm a Companion?"

"You don't fit in with the others on this ship. Manner, presentation, psychology…put it all together and it storylines Companion. Am I wrong?"

"No. I was just surprised."

"Well, then I'm happy to have surprised you. But you can assure the Captain that I'm not in need of mental counseling."

"That wasn't the only reason I came down here. I was hoping to get to know you. Especially if you'll be staying aboard _Serenity_."

Adalyn smiled softly, "I do appreciate it, really. I'm just not one to talk much. So if you'll excuse me," she asked politely, going into more meticulous detailing on her gun assembly.

"Of course. If you do need to talk, I'll be in the area. It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise."

* * *

Mal watched Inara climb up the stairs in the back corridor to the kitchen. Happy as he was at a job done right and the pay given over, he wasn't too sure about the foreboding look on the Companion's face. He'd seen her go through worse than a conversation without that face; haunted, like there was too much she didn't want to know that she'd found out. She looked up at him after she walked the stairs and gave a false little smile. She quickly went to the counter to pour out hot water into a cup.

"Talk to our new guest?"

"I did."

He paused, not bringing his own cup to his lips, "And?"

She looked at him, stared at him, "I don't know."

"You can tell me, if you're all worried 'bout keeping secrets."

She stared down into her little cup, "I don't know. I couldn't…there was nothing to her."

"Don't get you."

"I'm supposed to understand people. Without talking to them. I'm supposed to put them at ease. Miss Santayana…she's unreadable."

"That a mark on you or a mark on her?"

"Her. She's been trained. Trained to resist interrogation, at the very least. Her body language is perfectly controlled. She's well-schooled."

"Family was one for schooling, if I recall."

"Not like this, Mal. This is…dangerous. There are levels of control and some can't be achieved without terrible consequences. Like Jubal."

Mal scoffed, "Man was insane."

"But he was methodical. Precise. He was dangerous."

"You saying she might snap?"

"I'm saying there're levels of her that she's not showing. She's smart enough to hide things and she's smart enough to be dangerous."

"Good thing she's on our side, then."

"I suppose. I just don't like the idea of you attracting more attention from the Alliance if she decides to cause problems."

He gave a fake smile, the one he'd gotten so good at giving, "Oh, no need to worry about us hooligans. All likelihood, I'll get us blowed up 'fore the Alliance comes sniffing around again."

"I didn't mean—"

"No matter. Not certain if she'll be staying on, so…Besides, sure you've got a heavy docket you're needing to get back to."

"I can stay a bit longer. She may wish to talk."

"Please, don't let the sheets cool on our account."

She stared at him and he felt some internal stab. But he hid it with a wonderful sip of tea. She looked wounded. For a woman so well in-control her own self, he found it easier to understand her now than it had been before.

"Of course. I'll be sure to keep in touch."

He nodded.

Without sipping from her cup even once, she left. He didn't watch her leave or try to follow her. It wouldn't make a damn difference. Woman had cut him up more than once and that was once more than most folk got a chance at. Wasn't about to go down another painful road just 'cause she felt like sticking around.

* * *

Simon wasn't entirely sure why having River, Adalyn and Kaylee around him made him feel uneasy. Mal had left a few moments back, and Simon had found himself feeling more like a harem-master than boyfriend-brother-who-knew-what-else. Kaylee was attached to his elbow and he loved that part. River was walking in front of him and at least he could keep an eye on her. And Adalyn seemed stuck in conversation with her, so that made things easier.

His sister quickly stopped and eyed a game stand. One of those shooting games where a good score got a plush animal.

"Ooh, look at the kitty!" she pointed to a large brown and white kitten plush, "Please can I have it?"

"You have to win it, _mei mei_," he said simply, "And you shooting doesn't go over well."

She pouted and he hated that look, "Besides, we'd probably need Zoe or the Captain for a score high enough."

"We could always go get Jayne. Sure he'd have some fun shooting even if it ain't for work," Kaylee smiled.

"I can try," Adalyn smiled, digging around in her deep pocket to find some spare bills. She walked over and River followed, Simon and Kaylee not far behind.

"You don't have to, really. We don't have room for it on the ship," Simon said mootly even as she handed over the bills to play her chance.

"At least she won't want a real one."

Simon considered that. It was strange that she'd hit the fact head on. He could remember when they were both younger and River wanted a kitten. Their mother had gotten her a stuffed toy instead and it had been enough. But the sight of Adalyn shouldering a tethered rifle put his thought aside.

Simon looked to the scoreboard. She'd need at least ten hits to get that toy. The targets moved and some in the back were no bigger than a finger. He doubted it would even be easier for the others to get the ten score with only ten rounds.

The distinct ping of Adalyn hitting a target made him watch closer. One by one, she knocked down a target with every single round. She hadn't missed one. The gamekeeper stared at her for a moment until she put the rifle down, waiting expectantly.

"I get a big one, right?"

He nodded.

"Kitty!" River squealed.

Adalyn smiled, "I guess I'll take the cat on the left."

The man silently handed over the prize and River snatched it up. Adalyn watched with a smile for a moment, checking the cat over for god-only-knew what.

"Wow. Impressive. Didn't know you could shoot like that," Kaylee smiled.

"My brothers taught me. You decide on a name?"

River nodded, "Hope cat. Hope kitty."

Adalyn's face fell a bit and she looked away from her to something else, "I've got to run. I still need to send a wave out to some people. I'll meet you at the ship."

"Okay. Well, thank—"

Simon cut himself off to see Adalyn already walking away. He wasn't sure if he'd been ignored because he was a doctor, or because of another reason he couldn't quite think of.

"You think she's okay?" Kaylee asked.

"I don't know. That was sudden."

"Kitty has a name. Not a name that should have been said."

* * *

She'd seen them across the way and now she was sure it meant bad tidings. Walking into a trap was the best way to get them out of the picture. And if they were here, Yan was, too. Three men here, another three someplace else if he had the whole crew out and about. Not like she couldn't handle them, or that she was terribly afraid of them, but thinking that they were after not only her but the rest of _Serenity_'s crew as well made her shiver.

Alley. Best place to draw them out.

Cue or not, they came out swinging from behind boxes and crates, trying to disable her. The biggest, Luke, was easily seven feet and she hated the fact that he could knock her out and down with a single hit.

She ducked, cart wheeling backwards to avoid his heavy-handed blow. There was enough space for her to stand straight before they all three faced her. She smiled at them about the same time they smiled at her.

"What's funny? Think you'll get away again?"

She chuckled, hands on her hips, "You boys just don't get it, do you?"

They pulled out guns of considerable size, aiming them at her. She smiled wider. Now. Now was so much easier because she wasn't playing helpless anymore.

They screamed.

* * *

Being gagged, he couldn't say much when the cargo bay door opened. The footsteps were hurried and they suddenly slowed. He didn't know who'd come in but he hoped it was someone with a gun who could kill the bastards keeping him down.

"Captain Reynolds?"

It was Adalyn. Yan smiled and stood. Mal heard a gun whine to life. With the three other men holding him, he couldn't do much except wait.

"I was thinking it was you," Yan said, "And seeing you here means my boys aren't coming back."

"Straight-cut self-defense. They attacked me. Where's the Captain?"

"Oh, he's around. But you don't need to be worrying about him. You're coming back with me and mine."

"No. I'm not."

There was a whistle. Mal was hustled to his feet and held tight, pushed out into view. He saw Adalyn. Her eyes cringed to see him so beat up. She had a cut across her forehead and some blood dripped down the side of her face. Her gun was trained on Yan, but her eyes were on him.

"Now, this is simple. You come with us, or we kill him," Yan smiled.

"I'm not going back," she said; Mal wasn't sure if she was apologizing to him or denying Yan.

He didn't care when Yan pulled the trigger and a round hit him in the calf of his left leg. He bit down on the gag and took the weight off the wounded leg. Yan's gun whined to life again and Mal opened his eyes from the pain to see the barrel of it facing his forehead.

"Your choice," he said, smiling to Adalyn.

She dropped her gun. Yan pulled his back and walked over to her. Her face was grimly determined. With the gun at her feet and Yan in front of her, she turned her eyes down to the deck. Mal tried to yank his arms free from behind his back; he didn't want Adalyn to go back to that ship and least of all because he was being used as blackmail.

"Did you really think we would let you go? Did you think these people would help you?"

Adalyn didn't say anything. Yan ran his gunhand around to her cheek. She pulled her face away and Yan smiled, laughing. The men holding Mal back laughed, too.

He backhanded her. She twisted, but didn't go down. Her lip busted. She slowly faced him again and threw a punch of her own. Yan caught it, hitting her with the gun. This time, she went down.

Mal watched her hit the deck. Her body went limp and her head lolled with blood slowly leaking from open wounds. Mal pulled against the men holding him. Yan towered over her and looked to him.

"Maybe you should've listened, Mal. A killer's not worth it."

Yan fell flat on his back. Adalyn's leg had taken out his ankles. She grabbed the gun that was at her side and aimed from the floor. She shot three times and each man keeping Mal back landed dead on the deck behind him. Adalyn got her feet under her and pushed herself over to him. With the gun still in her hand, she reached into her boot and pulled out a knife. She reached behind him and cut the tie holding his wrists together. She cut the gag, too.

"You okay?"

He nodded, "Be fine."

"Where are the others?"

"Still out having fun."

"Do you know where the doctor went?"

"Likely he's at the—"

He cut himself off to push them both behind the crate he'd been kept behind. A gunshot ricocheted off the corner of it. Adalyn quickly checked her gun and stayed crouched.

"Just give yourself up, girl. It's not worth getting him killed."

"You got a gun?" Adalyn whispered.

Mal shook his head. He looked at the fallen bodies to see his gun tucked into the waistband of one. Adalyn followed his gaze and took out another gun from the side of her thigh. She handed it over to him.

"Got any plans?

He cocked the gun, "Don't get shot again."

She smiled and popped up over the top of the crate to fire off a few rounds. She ducked back down and cursed. Mal raised his head just slightly to see Yan covered behind more crates. She looked around and her eyes fell on the middle catwalk.

"Can you cover me?"

He nodded.

She silently stood and dodged the bullets to grab onto the side of the middle catwalk. She used the edge to maneuver herself up onto the flat surface with a tucked roll. Mal fired off half his rounds to keep Yan pinned behind the crates. Adalyn was pulling her PSR off her back. Laying flat on the catwalk, she aimed and fired off a round. It got Yan to find new cover when the crate he was hiding behind gave her the shot. He ducked behind a higher set of crates.

Mal could see Yan's protruding arm around the corner of his cover. He fired off a few more rounds before the magazine clip clicked empty. Yan returned the fire to Adalyn. Mal heard her yelp and roll when a bullet hit her in the arm. She looked at him and he waved his gifted gun around in the hopes she would understand his lack of ammunition. She pulled the PSR strap from around her arm and back and he ran out. She dropped it to him and he shot. Yan shot at the same time and the PSR was hit from his hands. It clattered on the deck. Standing there, he saw Yan leave the cover of the crates to keep the gun squarely aimed at his chest.

Mal stayed there while Yan moved closer. Adalyn's blood from her arm wound was dripping through the grate of the catwalk while she stayed silent on her back.

"Such a waste," Yan shook his head.

Yan's trigger finger tightened and Mal braced himself to be shot again. There was no quick cover, no easy way out.

He heard the shot. Yan fell backwards. From the catwalk above, Adalyn had shot him. But the sound of the shot was off, like it was doubled. She just remained lying there on her side with her outstretched hand, statuesque.

"Adalyn?"

She was still. She relaxed a slight bit, rolled onto her back, before her gun dropped from her hand. He stared at her a moment longer, all too aware that she wouldn't drop her gun unless something was wrong.

"Adalyn?"  
Blood poured from the catwalk to the deck plating. He charged, limping, up the stairs to reach her. Adalyn's face was blank and dewy and blood was rushing from her chest. She coughed and blood gurgled up from her throat.

"Adalyn! Stay with me!"

He ripped away her tank to press his hands onto the wound under her breast. She didn't say anything, only looked at the ceiling with a quivering body and more blood rushing from mouth and wound equally fast. Mal kept his hands on the wound. He could see her eyes start to close on him.

"Adalyn!"

He looked up to see River running with Simon and Kaylee in tow. Simon dropped to his knees at her side, gently trying to get a response when he shook her face.

"We need to get her to the infirmary."

He and Mal lifted her while River and Kaylee stayed close behind. They let her down on the medcot and Simon quickly tore away the rest of her shirt to show the bullet hole. She was still, unmoving and only the gurgling of blood in the back of her throat told Mal she was still alive.

A siren went off. Time had cost them. River looked up and Mal knew that look of panic and doubt. Adalyn was limp and white. River had her hand in hers, trying to squeeze life into it. Simon took out the paddles. Mal yanked the girl away. Adalyn's body surged up with the current. But there was nothing more. Simon did it again. This time, there was a heartbeat. Simon threw the paddles down, taking a syringe from his mouth and plunging it into her arm. He looked at her wound.

"She needs blood. She needs blood and some Torateptine."

"What blood type and who's got it?"

"AB positive. Look through the roster."

Mal pulled up the crew roster to see if anyone had what Adalyn needed. River reached into the draw and pulled out the snap-case full of medicine. He held it open for Simon. The doctor reached in, messed around, and pulled one out. He uncovered the syringe and stabbed it in next to the wound.

"Only River's got that."

Simon turned to look at him before looking at his sister, "There may be one packet in the cool chest before we hook my sister up."

Mal found it, handing it over to Simon. As Simon tried to hook it up to her, the siren blared again. He cursed under his breath, watching her die again. He reached for the paddles and pressed them against her chest. She surged upwards, the siren still blaring. He shocked her again, and a third time. But the siren was still blaring.

Mal watched as the doctor tried to bring her back. She looked so sweet and innocent, dead as she was. Her face was serene, not a worry etched on it. And she was dead. It was his fault that another one died.

The siren turned off as the heartbeat came back. Simon started to hook her up, letting the blood drain into her. He packed the wound tight, trying to keep her from bleeding out again.

"She gonna be okay?"

"You need to leave."

"Is she gonna be okay?"

Simon looked up furiously from his work, "You want me to save her? You get out!"

Mal glared at him for a moment before walking out of the infirmary. River stayed there. Kaylee came with him, pulling him along and away gently like only she could. River closed the doors quickly before moving back alongside her brother.

* * *

Her chest hurt more than anything else. Her first instinct was to sit up and the moment she tried, it hurt more. But she got up and leaned over. She was still in _Serenity_ and from the slight vibration under her feet, they were sky-born. Her chest was wrapped in gauze and the tightness seemed to be under her heart. She touched beneath the curve of her breast to feel extra thick wrapping, not to mention the outline of stitches and weaves.

She looked up to see the infirmary walls surrounding her.

Her reaction caused more pain but she got her feet under her, getting out of the infirmary enough to sit on the coffee table in the common. Only she felt some stitches pop. Blood drained from the gauze and from the blotch under her wrapped upper. She held onto it, wishing it didn't hurt so much. Her bunk was close by and she wasn't about to stay in the infirmary. She walked, more zig-zagged to her bunk and plopped down on the inviting bed. She reached into the trunk and pulled out her own set of stitching supplies.

She unwrapped her chest and looked in the small mirror. She was lucky to be alive, that much was for certain.

She stitched the small area back up, grateful that she was still dosed a bit with something. The pinpricks weren't terrible. They were at least better than being in that room. It must've been night because she couldn't hear anyone. The ship was thrumming but as relaxing as it was, she didn't feel comforted. She knew she'd killed Yan. And his men. All six of them. It would raise questions. The Captain seemed too responsible to leave her for dead, but that didn't mean trust was easy to come by.

She slowly wrapped herself up, wiping the blood off with a spare sheet on her bed. She tossed it in the corner. She sat there for a moment, looking around. She wished she knew how long she'd been out.

"Four days," River said softly.

Adalyn nodded, looking up to the doorway where River now stood. The younger woman walked in and closed the door behind her.

"That long?"

"Brother kept you sedated."

"It wore off."

River opened her hand for Adalyn to see the small syringe there, "No. It didn't."

Adalyn took it and nodded again; there wasn't much to say to that except: "Do they know?"

"You saved the captain. They know that. You're dangerous to people, but they don't think you'll hurt them."

"So you didn't tell them."

"Wasn't my place. You decide the third revelation. I just act."

Adalyn smiled, "You sound better than you used to."

"Found the secret they shoved into my head."

"Heard about that. Whole planet dead. What a waste."

"Backs against the wall. Gone too far. Paying for it now."

"People just needed something true to believe. This crew gave it to them."

"Pride to shame. But the war's far from over."

"I know."

"I won't tell them unless you want me to," she whispered.

"Thank you."

"They know about me. No need to worry. I'll set it easy for you."

"There is no easy, _xiao mei mei_. Never is. Least of all when one can't read minds," she gave a crooked, defeated smile.

"I could let you see them."

"No. Don't think I want to know. But thank you. For waking me up."

"Nightmares always come in the blue," River said slowly as she opened the door to leave, closing it a moment later. Adalyn looked at the syringe. The sedatives had been nullified by the concoction she now held in her hands. And the pain had ebbed because of it, too. She was grateful for it. She just hoped getting out of the infirmary wouldn't upset the brother. He seemed still uptight despite his obvious displacement from the core. She at least had some training in blending in. That's what she was designed to do. He didn't have that capacity and it seemed he was still a doctor at heart: doting over patients and ignoring what they want. If she'd been awake enough, she'd told him to let her die rather than take her into that room.

* * *

Mal wanted to be sure she was okay. That's all this was. He'd been in and out of the infirmary several times a day for the last few. Making sure she was pulling through. Fact that he was hoping to see her awake today didn't mean nothing, either, just that she was, in fact, pulling through.

'Cept she wasn't in the infirmary.

He stood there for a moment, looking around. Her door was closed to her bunk. Could've been she'd gotten up in the middle of the night. Wound that terrible, he doubted she could've walked. He still wanted to know how she was. Fact that she was up and about didn't mean much 'til he was sure she hadn't died in her sleep.

He opened the door slow, seeing her curled up with her back to the room. Her chest was moving slowly, deeply. He stepped over the track of the door.

She aimed a gun at him. Her face was feral and the pistol was already half-cocked. He smiled, held his hands up and took a step back over the track.

"Light sleeper?" he asked.

She winced, "Yeah," she retracted her arm, hissing in pain and clutching at her wound, "Sorry. Reflex."

"Not a bad one to have. Okay there?"

"Fine. Got a hole in my chest, but I'm fine."

"Guess I should thank you for that."

"For what?"

"The hole in your chest. Seems like it would'a been for me if you hadn't killed the man."

"They came looking for me."

"You killed them all."

She nodded, "They deserved it."

"Me and mine deserve it?"

She looked at him like she was in more pain. He shrugged, "Seems a good question to ask when a girl takes out six men."

"I keep a steady hand."

"Most folk out here do. Don't mean they can shoot without looking. Or make people bleed out without a scratch on them."

She looked down, one hand still across her wound.

He stepped back over the track, sitting across from her on the desk, "We found Yan's other men. You killed them. Don't look like you touched them, though. Now how that works, I'm at a loss. I said your past didn't much matter to me until trouble came about. So, start talking."

"Pressure points," she said quietly.

"_Shen ma_?"

"Pressure points. The body…it can kill people. Just touch the right areas, give a pinch…not all that hard."

She wouldn't look him in the eye. He waited. She didn't seem the type to look away. Nor the type to lie unless it served something bigger. But she was doing both. He could see the fear under her skin, making her hand clench at her wounded center. No doubt that a man could be killed that way, but no doubt either that wasn't how she'd killed the three men Jayne and Zoe had found in that alley.

"You're no prisoner. Free to come and go as you please. Truth is, you got some skill. And we could use that on this boat. Work we come by occasionally needs muscle like yours. If there're any conditions of yours, now'd be a good time to voice 'em."

"You're offering me a job?" she met his gaze.

"Am."

"Why?"

"Because your brothers were good men. You seem like a decent girl yourself. You keep from throttling us in our sleep, I'll keep that opinion. And we could use the help."

She nodded, "I want to cook."

He blinked, "Huh?"

"Cook. You need a cook. Breakfast was terrible."

He smiled, "Okay. You cook and you keep a bunk. Any jobs you're in on, you get a cut."

She smiled back at him, "That sounds agreeable."

He stood off the desk, starting for the doorway. He hesitated, looking back at her, "You know, telling me how you killed those men don't answer the bigger question. Time comes, I'm gonna need to know just how a debutante like yourself ended up out here. Brothers were honest men, good soldiers. But they weren't no backwater boys. And rich core-world folk don't end up on the rim without good reason."

"When the time comes, I'll see if I can't answer," she said, staring at him.

He nodded, leaving her bunk and sliding the door closed. Simon walked up to him and he raised a hand to the doc's about-to-protest open mouth. He walked away towards the infirmary.

"She's not supposed to be out of the infirmary."

"Don't think you're like to get her back in. And she ain't dead, so there's no need."

"She was shot in the chest."

"I do recall."

"And are you completely insane for keeping her on board _Serenity_?"

Mal stared at him, "Excuse me?"

"She killed those men. And from what I've seen in the autopsy, she killed them from the inside out."

"We went over this, Doc. Girl needs a home. Got none to go back to."

"Captain, I respect what you're trying to do for her, but she's clearly not telling us everything. Those men were killed from internal bleeding. And there was no trauma that would've caused it. She's dangerous."

Hooking his hands onto his gunbelt, Mal gave a tired smile, "Best let your sis be the insightful one. You just worry about getting that wound healed."

He walked away, leaving the doctor fuming outside the infirmary. Even if the doc wasn't one to know people, he knew his stuff. If he said those men were killed in some odd fashion, Mal trusted him.

Adalyn had saved his life, taking a bullet for him to do it. He winced to think that was how the oldest brother had died. The shot had ended his life. For that, Mal owed Adalyn. Even if the back of his brain was screaming in warning, he owed her at least the benefit of the doubt. She'd earned that much.


	2. A Lost Night

He wasn't one for blushing. He'd been around for too long, seen too many things, to blush. That didn't mean he was immune to it, of course. There were moments that made the color rise high in his ears and neck, traveling up to under his eyes to paint his face an ideal red. But that didn't happen often. Most times, he could walk away and avoid it.

He also wasn't one who looked away first. Staying gaze-locked was an advantage and he made full use of it. The man he was staring at would back down and Mal would feel that small victory. Knowing he'd lasted the uncomfortableness that staring a not-so-known-acquaintance down was. He found a bit of pride that he carried a stare longer, making the other look away. Small victories, but victories he would accept out here.

But he'd blushed and dropped the stare first when he stumbled onto Adalyn and Jayne tangled in each other's arms.

He hadn't meant to come across them. And it was the kitchen. He'd been unable to sleep and a snack was the cure. He was sure Adalyn had some leftovers in the cool bin he could make use of. So, he'd gone to the kitchen.

Adalyn and Jayne were indulging in dessert. There was, of course, no food involved. She was on his lap and Jayne had his hands under her night tank.

He regretted now that he'd cleared his throat. It had seemed like the thing to do at the time, but now he knew it wasn't. But he'd done it. Adalyn had jumped off Jayne's lap, pulling down her tank and staring at him.

That was when he'd dropped his gaze.

Jayne had remained in the seat, unwilling to control himself, or his obvious arousal, on account of the captain. That was when Mal had blushed.

He'd made quick work of getting the snack he was no longer hungry for and left them there to whatever devices they desired.

He had made it to his bunk when he realized he should've apologized for barging in on them. It had been late and, like it usually turned out, Adalyn would stay awake with Jayne until his bridge shift came up. Then he would be at the bridge and Adalyn would retire for the night. They had a right to some privacy and this was the only time they could really get it.

But he'd interrupted them. And then he knew why. He hadn't gone out searching for them, but when he found them, he'd seen himself in Jayne's place. He'd seen that one night he and Adalyn had together. It had been a flash of senses and feelings. The smell of her, salty and alive and sweet with fading perfume.

She'd been warm. Warm and full of life when all he wanted was her flesh. He'd come to terms with that need. It hadn't been love. It had been heat-of-the-moment-drunk-as-an-excuse night of passion. Knowing that, he knew he had no claim to her, or to who she decided to be with. But some times he wished things had come out different. He hated thinking about it, but it tended to pop up at a time like this. If he'd only realized what he wanted out of her sooner, before the whole business of Jayne came up, she might be sitting on his lap.

She was attractive; brunette, green eyes, lithe and every bit a woman. Someone he could see himself with. Being with her might have been awkward, but he knew he could've gotten over that nagging bit of him that never felt good enough. With Inara out of the picture, he and Adalyn could've gotten on with something real. Maybe he wasn't good enough for her, but he knew he wouldn't be dragging her down from some grand life. He wouldn't be putting her in any more danger than she already was. And she accepted him. She took it all in stride and made damn sure he knew how she felt about him.

She respected him. Besides the one time she'd hit him. Well, two times. But both of those times had been valid, granted one had been in lieu of Jayne's fist. It stung, seeing her choose Jayne's side over his. She'd hit him, and then got to her haunches to tend to Jayne. He'd wished it were different. He wished she'd chosen to be at his side. He didn't trust her any less. He couldn't. She was who she was and he admired her more than he cared to admit.

But when he blushed, it wasn't because of Jayne and his crude manner. It was because Adalyn had caused it and that was a subject Mal was familiar with. Having been drunk, it had been easier to give in to the lust he felt. Only now, and sober, he still had thoughts of her. How they'd managed to stay on the ship together after that, he hadn't a clue. She had made it clear that she didn't expect anything from him. As easy as he'd thought it would be, it wasn't. It was worse sometimes because he felt he'd damaged her chance at happiness without ever hurting himself. She'd been shot for him, nearly killed, and still he'd come out without a scratch.

She was Adalyn; he knew that's all that mattered. She was who she was and he would always remember that night together. He didn't want to forget it.

The things they'd whispered that night. The sensations she given him. The places he let himself go with her. All too sensual and close, all too personal. He'd said things he never thought he would. Things only Adalyn could understand and reciprocate. It had been playful because it hadn't been love. Playful and uninhibited. He wondered how she'd ever let herself be with him. He was a good deal older, farther away, and not at all the young, brawny mercenary she'd had her eyes on. How could she have looked past all the years of anger and war and loss and made him feel young again while she smiled in pleasure? He knew she was better than him. That's why he'd given in when she'd started touching him back.

He'd never considered himself a perfect ten. Scars and rusty skills from long years of war and bitterness. She'd touched those scars on his chest, running her fingers over them. She loved the imperfection. She'd made him feel good enough, if only for that night. And it didn't matter to her that he had held back at first. After that first kiss, he remembered regretting it until she'd pushed him down on the bed. And when he'd gotten his feet back under him and his mind in the place it needed to be, he'd made her gasp. It had been hard to concentrate. And it wasn't because he was drunk. It was because she had taken him for a joyride.

He could never feel that again. She'd moved his limbs for him once, even occasionally getting the better hand because of her freaky, government-induced talent. But he could never hope for that mind to work through his body so intimately again. It hadn't been only her mind though. It had been that moment he gave into her. She'd pinned him, excited him, before he realized how helpless he was. And by the time he realized it, he also realized he could trust her. Falling wasn't something he was used to. Not in bed, not in life. He always had control of himself if nothing else. That night, he'd relinquished it to her. She had control of him. She hadn't abused it. He let himself fall, and she caught him.

Now, it was Jayne's luck to have her attention. And he was jealous. Not because he loved her, he knew that. It was because he was still so alone.


	3. A Lost Civility

It was easy to forget that Adalyn had been raised a lady. The woman standing before Inara was nothing like Inara thought comparable to a lady raised on a decent world with a decent family. Nothing like a woman of some fortune was supposed to be. Mostly because, at the moment, Adalyn was standing with a smashed bottle pointed sharp-end out between Inara, River and Kaylee and a bulksome set of men intent on causing trouble.

It had started innocently enough. Mal, Zoe and Jayne had gone to make a contact. Simon, being the best dressed of the crew, had been volunteered to go with and make them look a bit more respectful. That being that case, the remaining girls had decided to leave the ship and take in the local establishments.

Things had been smooth. Adalyn stayed quiet and apart from the others. Womanly chat was something Inara knew Adalyn had no real care for. But Kaylee was showing off some new trinket Simon had gotten for her not too far back, and River and Inara were playing host to the mechanic's pride. The shiny jewel had caught the attention of some less-than-favorable men and that's when things got to be more to Adalyn's liking.

Or, at least more to Adalyn's routine. She hadn't been born into this world of brawling and bars. She was a fine and respectable woman who'd been forced to the far-end of the verse. This was her life now and Inara felt pity for her. Having to give up everything, her family included, was something Inara couldn't imagine living through. But this was her niche now. This was what she was good at. The Academy had made her an assassin but the escape had made her a brigand.

Had she always dreamed for a bigger life, rich in adventure and danger? Or had that young girl looking out her window wanted nothing more than security and love from her family? She'd mentioned once that she'd been engaged before the Alliance took her. Inara hadn't pressed the idea of it because she'd seen a grimace of regret come over the woman's face. She could never claim to understand Adalyn, but she knew where Adalyn came from and the ideals she'd been raised with. They weren't too different from Inara's.

Small things set her apart from the others. She'd adapted to a rougher language. She'd become physical. But sometimes the lady won out over the assassin. Inara would see her straighten at dinner, etiquette more important than comfort. The small blessing of Adalyn not paying heed to Inara's profession had set her apart, too. Like many cultured ladies, Adalyn knew of Companions and their role in society. Adalyn even respected her; showing small, casual acknowledgement of what Inara had accomplished. Adalyn showed her appreciation for the fine arts and the luxuries that normally accompanied the elite.

She'd fallen so far from grace.

And standing in front of Inara, it was hard to imagine her as a lady in a gown with a betrothed offering an elbow. Now, all Inara could see was the soldier. Adalyn stood ramrod straight between the threat and them, her cold glare making the men question their actions.

Adalyn had stayed indifferent until the threat was too obvious to ignore. The men had come up with the civil pretense of buying the ladies drinks. Not a one of them had minded. The men hadn't cast a glance at Adalyn. She didn't look like one of them. She looked rougher, a bit more ragged and off set. They'd ignored her and Adalyn had done the same. Then one of the men had put a hand on Kaylee's thigh. At Kaylee's protest and the man's refusal to remove his hand, Adalyn had spun into action.

Her glass bottle had become a weapon. She cracked the bottom half on the bar, shattering it off. The uneven, dangerous splinters of glass on the bottom of the bottle had been aimed out and Adalyn held it by the neck. It was blue. Inara, Kaylee and River fell silent. As did the men opposing them. The bottle was still out and nothing had been said. The man closest took a step closer, pressing his chest against the bottle. Adalyn kept her hand tight. Inara watched her knuckles go white.

She wasn't born a fighter. It was just what she was good at. But Inara knew she hated it. Knew that fighting was something Adalyn looked down upon and would only do if there was no other way. Sometimes, there was a flash of approval, of enjoyment, but that was only seldom and more a mask of pain than true satisfaction. Inara knew. Body language was hard to feign as good as Adalyn was at it. Not even the trained assassin could hide everything.

"You their bodyguard?"

"Am at that."

"Not much of one."

Adalyn smiled. Inara knew it was coming. Adalyn recoiled the bottle, smashing it down on the man's shiny, bald head. He yelped, grabbing onto the broken bits of glass embedded in his skin. Adalyn kicked him once, sending him flat on his back. The other two men looked on. Flashes of quick understanding came over them and they only helped their accomplice off the ground. Adalyn stayed vigilant, not trusting them until they'd retired to the far end of the bar. Even then, she remained still and daunting until they'd left the bar. At that, she'd turned right back around and started ordering another drink; her own had been wasted to the dismay of her small pocket of change.

Such a far cry from a lady.

Inara remembered the young woman walking through her front doors unescorted. Then Jayne had come up next to her and she'd gaped. Before Jayne walked off with her, Inara had thought she was a Companion. Everything about her said elite. Her manner, her civility, her dress. Everything was in check. She looked like, acted like, a lady of Inara's stature. Inara wasn't sure if Adalyn knew how easily the ranks could be changed; how easily she could fit in with the world Inara knew.

It didn't really matter, though. Adalyn had lost her privileges. Torn away and apart from the life she had. Now, she was a cook and an assassin, living with veterans, outlaws and petty thieves.

Inara didn't know if the woman wanted to be befriended by her. Inara and she had never really talked besides pleasant banter at dinner. Nothing that could be considered friendship. Was it too hard for her? Seeing her old life so close and yet out of reach? Inara hadn't made the effort for many reasons; most pressing the simple fact that Adalyn intimidated her.

She hated admitting that Adalyn intimidated her. No one ever had before. Even the captain couldn't make her stand down. But Adalyn's look and despondent manner had made her untouchable. And Inara couldn't help but wonder if some day, when a job went wrong, if she would end up like Adalyn: torn from a life of pretty jewels and fancy clothes and endless pampering. If being so high on the social ladder made her more a target for the fall.

She'd found Adalyn once on the middle catwalk, looking out at the empty cargo bay with a cup of tea in her hands. Inara had found it odd. She'd asked what Adalyn was doing. When the reply was thinking, Inara had been too curious about 'why' to ask 'about what'. Asking why Adalyn had come out to the catwalk to think, Adalyn smiled. She reminisced about the tree house in her lush backyard and how even up to the day she was kidnapped, that tree house had given her a platform; a platform that made it easier to view the world and her place in it. To this day, she claimed, she did her best thinking with her feet dangling and her eyes looking down over her domain.

Inara had gladly taken note that her shuttle was above Adalyn, as was a better part of the ship. But she had the nagging suspicion that _Serenity_ wasn't what Adalyn considered her domain. The life she had inside was. Even after she'd asked that question and gotten that answer, Inara knew Adalyn didn't lay claim to the ship. She couldn't. She had no right to. She might have considered the ship a home, but not necessarily hers.

And as she went back to sipping on a blue glass bottle with questionable contents, Inara reminded herself that Adalyn had only agreed to come along so they would be safe.


	4. A Lost Friend

**A/N: So, for anyone who hasn't gotten it yet, there're obviously some bigger things going on with Adalyn. The little hints I drop should suffice for now. This whole thing might end up being a series of one-shots and episodics with some time gaps in them, just to show how things go.** **And it might not be perfectly chronological. So enjoy!** **Thanks to all of you who've favorited the piece. Makes me that much more anxious to post! **

* * *

Cramped down in her quarters, looking at her gun, Adalyn wasn't much in the mood for company. Two days ago, she'd been happy. A little nostalgic, but happy. And she'd killed it. As much as she told herself there was no other way to end the threat, she didn't believe it. The knocking on her door went unnoticed, ignored, and it wasn't until Jayne asked permission to come in did she stir.

She got up, leaving her gun on her bed, and opened the door. He was standing there. The hits from last night hadn't bruised completely, but they would be purple before the end of the day.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Don't lie. You wanna talk about it?"

"No."

She started to close the door again. He stuck his hand out and stopped it before stepping into her bunk a little, "I just wanted to say I was sorry for last night. Had no call saying what I said."

"Thanks."

"I just…you…I'm here for you. If'n you need me."

She nodded, "Thanks."

"Anythin' I can do?"

"Doubt it."

He tried to smile, "Try me."

In spite of herself, she smiled back and shrugged, "Wanna help me polish my pieces?"

He nodded, "Sure."

She moved back to her bed and reached under the frame to the storage drawers to pull out an assortment of guns, rifles and pistols. The oil was on her nightstand and she ripped her shining rag in two, handing a side over to him. He sat on the desk chair, picking up her Dolly and turning it in his hands, polishing it piece by piece. He took care with it and she was grateful for the blessing. Man had about as much reverence for guns as he did for cash.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were interested?" she asked quietly, pulling the magazine clip from her PSR.

He shrugged, "Don't know. Didn't think you'd take to it."

That was enough of an answer for her. She continued polishing and shining and oiling her precious rifle and she found herself humming. It wasn't like she never hummed when she polished her work, but she hadn't thought it would come so natural the day after she'd killed Oktan.

"Pretty voice."

"Huh?"

"Sounds pretty. Never heard you hum before."

"Never polished pieces with me before."

"Guess not. Think I'll ever be able to fire that PSR?"

"Doubt it."

"How'd ya get it? Not a cheap piece."

"Stole it."

"Wish I'd had that. But I got me Vera. She'd take that on any day."

"That the Callahan full bore auto lock, customized trigger with double cartridge thorough-gage?"

He smiled, "Sure is."

"Nah. PSR's better. Less heft, faster fire-rate, and she doesn't jam when you slap a new mag in too hard. Doesn't need a re-cock after a new mag, anyhow."

"Still outshoot you with Vera."

"Nope."

"How's a girl like you know so much about guns anyhow?"

She smiled, "My brothers taught me. They would go hunting with my dad sometimes. Take part in the old-style tourneys. Picked up most of it from them."

"Weren't the Academy?"

She shrugged, "A little. More technique than knowledge, I think. But Jo was the best shooter in the family. Only thing he was really good at. Wasn't more than six months after Mark enlisted than Jo followed. Said he should put it all to work. Then just me and Oktan…we were left shooting by ourselves. Oktan hated it."

She put her PSR down across her lap to furiously wipe at some tears that had crept up to roll down her cheeks.

She hated it even more when Jayne sat next to her to put his hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off. He tried again and she couldn't stop herself from crying outright, letting him hold her. He was saying things she'd never thought he'd say, let alone know to say in a situation like this. Trying to soothe her as if she was some small child.

"Will you stop?" she choked out.

He stared at her and took his hands away, "Sorry."

She stood, staring down at him, "Why do you care? Why should I think this is anything but a play to get some trim?"

He looked hurt. For a man who wasn't the brightest, he looked genuinely hurt, "Y'think I'd do that?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Not to you. Ain't got a need to lie 'bout it. Not like I've lied yet."

"Go off. Get some trim from some whore! We're setting down tomorrow, shouldn't be too long for you to let yourself cool."

He looked at her, "Think that low of me?"

She stayed quiet. No. She didn't think that low of him. She just didn't want to say it. He was looking up at her like his salvation rested on her words. She covered her face with a hand, the other placed on her hip, and she sighed.

"Just leave, please."

He stood and left, but not before he stopped in the doorway, "Sorry. If'n I upset you. Just felt bad you was all alone. Thought you would be needing someone to talk to."

She smiled again, feeling her heart drop deep into her stomach. No. Talk was definitely not what she wanted to do. And she hated herself for the basest want to take comfort in him. It was wrong and she still wanted it. Damn if it meant complications. She'd had a one-night stand before and it hadn't destroyed her 'verse. Was that enough reason?

"I don't want to talk."

He stayed in the doorway, "What you need then?"

"I need you to kiss me."

He stared at her like she'd grown some extra appendage. He stepped back into her room and closed the sliding door, staring at her.

"You're confusing as all hell, you know that?"

She smiled, "Does it matter? We both get what we want."

"Don't want you to be regretting it tomorrow. Don't want you like that."

She let her forehead hit his chest, closing her eyes, "Please, I don't want to think about tomorrow. I don't even want to think about today. It hurts. Just don't let it anymore. Please."

"I don't wanna just bed you, girl. Ain't ever just wanted that."

She smiled, "If you still feel that way tomorrow, we'll figure this out. Right now I don't care." She leaned up towards him, eyes half-lidded.

"Don't kiss on the lips," he said quickly, sad that it was still the safest way to be.

"I can deal."

He kissed her neck. Kissed her rough, devouring her neck and shoulder and more and not giving her the second chance to protest even though by the time he'd wrapped his hands around her she wasn't even thinking of it.

* * *

Delighted as Mal was for not needing Adalyn on the job, he was worried now that he saw her. Walking back up the ramp, he and Zoe stopped to see her hitting the swingbag again full force. She'd been scarce most of yesterday and had barely come out to make dinner and now she was evidently back to brooding and mourning. All well and good considering what had happened two days ago, but Mal still found himself worried.

Zoe went along with the bag of coin and he stayed behind, taking his gloves off and latching them to his gunbelt. He walked up to her and waited for her to stop. She'd noticed him and she would eventually stop, and he knew from personal experience that badgering her would earn a hit. He smiled.

"Something funny?" she quipped.

"Just thinking Jayne must've snuck up on you while you were doing this yesterday."

"Oh? Why's that."

"You nearly broke his eye socket, you know. Man's got bruises covering half his face."

"You complaining?"

"Not currently, no. Just wondering when you're gonna unwind about this."

She faced him, stopped hitting, and the smile on his face disappeared, "Unwind? Unwind? I shot him!"

"Weren't your fault. Boy made his choice."

"I killed him, Mal. And you're saying I should unwind?"

"Saying you can't keep doing this to yourself. You look like hell, Adalyn. Look like you'd been up mos' the night. You haven't eaten a lick in near two days. You saved us. Kept us from getting blown out the sky. You know that."

"I just keep thinking there was another way."

"Wasn't. Otherwise you'd have thought about it."

"I murdered him."

He sighed, "Friend or no, you saved this crew. And that's something you need to be proud of. Something none of us are like to forget anytime soon. Take some peace in that. And be honest to yourself. If any of us had to stop him, you were the only one who could."

He walked away and left her with that, seeing the glimpse of tired acceptance come over her features. She hit the bag halfheartedly before he completely lost sight of her. He clambered up the stairs to the back hall, the kitchen a little more inviting since it was mostly empty. Although seeing Jayne sulking wasn't exactly his idea of fun, either. The merc was sitting there, playing with a bowl of soup that Adalyn had made days ago, and not saying much of anything.

"We get paid?"

"We did," Mal rummaged for a bowl himself, hoping there was still some soup left in the cool bin to be heated up just for him.

He expected more from Jayne, mostly along the lines of wanting to know how much the pay was, but found himself struck by the silence.

"How's Adalyn?"

"Dealing. Better'n some folk would, I s'pose. Why?"

"Just wanting to know if I can get to my bench without being hit, is all."

Mal smiled at that, "Oh, I don't know. Gal could match one side of your face t'other."

Jayne faked laughed and gave that piss-off look before taking his bowl up in one hand and offering it to Mal, "Not hungry. Going down to the hold."

"If she hits you again, I wanna watch," Mal called out after him, thankful the bowl was still warm because there was no more soup left otherwise.

* * *

Exactly how they ended up on the floor, half-naked and sweaty and full, Jayne didn't know. He had been sure, damn sure, that last night's escapades past kissing would be all there was. And yet here they were, in her bunk, on the floor, and he was having trouble remembering exactly what his name was. Wasn't like he'd gone looking for it, but seeing her sweaty had made him sweaty and the whole idea of lifting weights to get her off his mind hadn't been too helpful.

She rolled over to look at him, "Thanks."

He nodded and fought to catch his breath, "Ain't a burden."

He got up to leave and she lay there, pulling the sheet down while she watched him get dressed. She was eyeing him like the newest piece in the ammo store and he found that just her intense gaze was enough to make him want more.

He cleared his throat, "You said if'n I wanted more than just this today, we'd figure it out."

She stayed propped up on her elbows, "What do you want, Jayne?"

"You."

"I'd say you have me."

He shook his head, "Not just like this. I…I want more. Wanna be able to help you sometimes when you can see how t'do it yourself. Want more'n just grappling."

Her face was serious, "I don't know."

He nodded, "So long as you know what I had a mind for."

"Can't say it'll happen."

"I know. Know that. Just so long as you know."

She sat up, her knees to her chest so the sheet was covering the curvy parts, "Thank you."

He nodded again and yanked his shirt over his head, fiddling with it since it stuck to his skin. He left the room quiet like on account there were bound to be others roaming the ship at late day. She would be starting dinner soon. He needed to work out because there was no way in hell he was getting her off his mind any other way. He moved to the weight bench and found that Simon was standing on the cargo-bay side of the doorway, waiting for him with crossed arms. He watched the doc contemplate him for a moment before scoffing. Jayne found himself worried suddenly that Mal would find out and he'd end up dying in some airlock accident. More worried that Simon'd be the one to split the news.

"You're taking advantage of her."

"Eavesdropping ain't too kind, you know."

"She's grieving. You're taking advantage of that."

Jayne shrugged, "I ain't heard complaints."

"Do you even care what you're doing to her? She needs to work through this. Not go being your…easy fix."

"Ain't like that."

"Oh. And I suppose you have her best interests at heart."

"You don't know a gorramn thing 'bout her. Got no right talking."

"You'll do more damage than harm if you keep this up. If you really care for her, and I doubt you do, you'll stop whatever sick game it is you're playing so she can grieve and work through the pain. That's what she really needs right now."

He walked off, leaving Jayne there in the cargo bay. He stood there for a moment, knowing exactly what he did and didn't want. He wanted her. No two ways about that. But he wanted her when she wanted him back. Didn't want it any other way.

* * *


	5. The Wolves Find You If You're Lost

Jayne hit him. Mostly 'cause he was angry and there weren't a more deserving person than Simon at the moment. Simon stumbled back, falling and grabbing onto the weight bench even though it didn't help him none.

"_Hwoon dahn_. Where's Adalyn?"

Amidst the words from Mal and Kaylee, Jayne watched Simon pull together the story in his head. Wasn't about to tell any truths with them all there.

"She stayed behind," he spat out blood from his lips.

He got up, wiping his lip and Jayne sneered, "Liar."

"Jayne…" Kaylee started soothingly.

"She stayed behind so River and I could get away."

"No she didn't. I can read it all over your face. What you do? Hand her over so they'd let you and that moonbrained sis of yours go?"

"He wouldn't do that," Kaylee said, so sure.

"Not saying he would, Kaylee, but there's something here don't sit right," Mal spoke up.

Simon looked between him and Mal, his face set but not hiding much. Jayne studied him for a moment more, watching because he knew, just knew, that Simon'd turned his girl in without thinking twice about it.

"Girl can take out a station, no reason to hand herself over," Mal continued.

Jayne almost smiled, "Why don't we go ask that sister of yours."

Simon straightened, "You leave her alone. She's injured."

"Or drugged. Easier to hand over one when the other's drugged. Innit? Think River would let her go? Two o'em damn near to kin."

"He wouldn't do that," Kaylee pleaded, "She'll come back when she can, you know that."

Mal squared off to the Doc and hooked his thumbs over his gunbelt. After all the time, Simon still backed down a bit. Mal looked him down, "She say to leave world?"

"An hour. She said to give her an hour," he swallowed hard.

Mal watched him for a moment, making the boy squirm a bit, before he looked to Zoe and Kaylee, "Get her warmed up. Be ready to leave."

Zoe nodded and walked off, Kaylee too. Simon followed his girl and split off, seeing to his sister on the infirmary bed. Jayne and Mal stayed behind and Jayne pushed up beside him.

"He's lying. Girl didn't say no such thing."

"I know."

Jayne watched Mal walk off a moment before following, "You know? How's it you know and we're still getting ready to go?"

"Because if it's the truth, that's all Addy'll need, an hour. If it ain't, we need to get off the ground so we can find her. Get Vera ready if it comes to it."

"You gonna let the Doc do that? Toss her to the wolves?"

"I'm gonna let him think he's safe. He's truthful, no need to worry. He's lying, Adalyn will take care of it on her own terms. You know that, same as me."

"Seem to remember me being shoved in an airlock on account of doing the same."

"And I'd say you learned your lesson, don't you? She'll deal with it and I don't plan on being in her way when she does? You?"

"That's if we get her back."

"We'll get her back. I'm not in the habit of leaving folk. Even those who choose to be left. You just suit up and be ready to storm something or other if it comes to that."

* * *

She was sleeping fine. Her pulse was strong. Worried as he was that she would be suffering some ill effects from the concussion, Simon had been more worried that Adalyn being left behind would give her more trouble. He left her in the spare bunk. He tried to ignore Adalyn's empty room, her ajar door. He'd done what he had to. There was nothing else to it.

He moved to the infirmary. It seemed more like a sanctuary than anything else. Categorize supplies while trying to ignore the throb on his lips. How Jayne had known, he was clueless.

Pain.

He was spun, forced up off the ground with a hand on his throat and his lower back was pushed hard into the edge of the counter. Adalyn's face was calm. The doors closed and the opaque tint on the windows came down. He struggled for breath, watching her watch him.

"You're a doctor. You know I could kill you just like this. The smallest twitch," she emphasized her point, grabbing his trachea tighter, "and you would suffocate to death. And the last thing you would see, would be me smiling."

"Th…they'll know," he rasped.

"Oh, they would. But then again, what's worse? Being killed? Or being thrown to the wolves?"

She threw him. He landed on the opposite wall, hitting the spare cot before landing face first on the tiled deck. He tried to yell for someone, but he quickly realized she'd pinched his trachea before throwing him. He couldn't say anything louder than a harsh, rasp whisper. He scrambled to get on his feet. She stood there while he pointlessly tried to open the door.

"No use."

"I did what I had to," his voice was scratchy, turning to face her.

"Really? Did you ever consider what I might do to you when I got back?"

"I knew you would get back."

She kicked him and he felt a rib crack, "That wasn't what I asked."

He found himself on all fours, looking up at her. His throat was tight, getting tighter, and he doubted she had any intent on stopping herself.

She moved closer, watching him struggle to breath now that she had full control over his throat, "Truth is, you made more than just one enemy. But I'm not one of them. If you had asked me to stay behind, I would have. But you didn't. You didn't trust me. That hurts me, but it's gonna hurt you a lot more come time. Right now, only I know what you did. You pick a battle with me again, have no doubt that Kaylee and Mal will, too."

He felt cool air rush into his lungs and he coughed. The small relief was taken away when she grabbed him by the collar, pinning him to the wall.

"Next time you want to turn me over to the prods, keep in mind what I'll do to you when I get out. And don't count on being lucky. My good graces don't come by twice."

She let him go and he slumped against the wall for a moment. She stood there.

"Is River okay?"

He hesitated, "She'll be fine."

"Good."

She opened the door and he looked at her before following, "You won't…you won't tell Kaylee?"

She just kept walking. He stood there in the threshold and realized that possibility was worse than being beaten again. To lose that trust…

"You should watch over your sister. I suspect she'll be needing your attention all through dinner, in fact," she added.

Simon watched her. She walked out to the cargo bay, leaving him there. Besides the blatant threat, he had some idea that going to meal would just piss her off enough to provoke her into telling Kaylee. He rubbed his throat knowing it was better to stay put than make things worse.


	6. A Lost Reality

**A/N: This is one of those pieces that's a little out of chronological order. Again, just hints here and there, but it's earlier along on the timeline.**

* * *

The brush with reality left her mind a little skewed. Everyone was rebounding from the experience, of course, but she'd been the experience. Not something a chopped brain rebounds from easily. Half-dazed, zombie-esque, she wandered. No real place to go considering the size of _Serenity_. She had wandered from her bunk and stopped by the infirmary.

She walked on. Medication wasn't what she was looking for. She didn't know what she was looking for, but she knew what she wasn't looking for. She realized suddenly that she wasn't armed. Strange that she would do that. Maybe it was preservation. If they saw her like this and armed, she'd be locked down. A threat. That's what she would be if she were armed.

The back stairs were rough against her bare feet. She had no idea why she wasn't wearing boots, either. She slowed, walking through the main corridor. Jayne's bunk was locked. He was already asleep. Snoring, even. The Doctor and Kaylee were together, sweet whispers and groans. Silence from River's bunk. And from Zoe's. From the captain's too, as she passed it. She stepped onto the bridge, watching. That's where Mal was. He tensed to see her. If she'd been armed, or even wearing boots, he'd've reacted a bit stronger. As it was, he just stared at her for a moment. She just stared at nothing.

"Adalyn? You got some reason to be up here?"

She looked at him, blank as she could be. Stared at him for the longest time she could remember. His calloused hands, the imperial nose, even the curve of his jaw. He didn't blush or avert his gaze, just stared right back before clearing his throat.

"Bridge is off-limits, hate to say."

She turned and walked back down the stairs she came up to get to the bridge. They hurt her feet. Mal followed her, standing there at the top of the stairs while she stood alone in the hallway.

"Got a face makes me think you were looking for something."

She turned so she was sideways to him. Not facing, not turned away, just barely accountable. He walked down the stairs to her.

"What is it you want, Adalyn?"

"You know what I want. What do you want?"

"Ain't about me. What is it you—"

"I want to kiss you."

He yanked back, looked at her as though she had pulled a gun on him. A threat. That's what she was now.

"I want you to kiss me. So hard I bruise. Want to know what else I want?"

Silence. A yes.

"I want to be handled, pushed so hard against the wall that I can't tell where you end and I begin," she calmed her rapid breathing, her voice still shallow but a hushed whisper, deep with lust, "I want to taste you. Hear you call my name. Telling me how I make you feel. That's what I want. Remind me. What is it you want?"

Adalyn had always known Mal's breaking point. Since day one, she'd seen it buried just below the surface. But it was a point that only certain things could ever get to. In fact, the two things that could get to it were strangely different and related. She'd hit that point and she knew it. Now it was a matter of how it would go.

He grabbed her by the arms, kissed her. Not as hard as to bruise, but hard enough. He yanked back again, holding her away.

"What I want is to be left alone. _Dong ma_?"

She stood immoveable while he walked back to his sanctuary to look at the stars. It took a moment, but she walked away, too. Accepting but disappointed. She knew what she wanted now and if Mal couldn't give it to her, she would find it. Bound for a new world. Wouldn't be too hard to find a willing soul. Was it wrong that she wanted it? Human compassion. They all saw her as a killer now. All she wanted was for someone to hold her, touch her, treat her like a human being.

Mal had always seen her as a killer.

* * *

Leaving _Serenity_ was easy. They didn't really know how to deal with her so getting out and away, even if for a little while, was worth it. The night had slightly calmed her desperation, but she still wanted something. Only now she was more unsure.

The market was busy, as markets always here. Goods and trinkets for sale, but nothing that couldn't be bought anywhere else.

She saw Mal and Zoe walking towards their goal. A drop. Or at least the end of one. They were being followed by two men and they seemed to know it. No reason she couldn't add on to the entourage. She stayed a ways back, jumping up on rafters and roofs to keep unhindered. They walked into a hut and were quickly outnumbered. No violence yet, but she hunched down near the thatch roof to keep an eye. Dealings were always unpredictable even in her world. No doubt things were worse when living the lives of rebels.

The concern being money and payment, Adalyn wasn't surprised when things went bad. Weapons were pulled and Zoe disarmed. Knocked aside by two bigger foes and Mal left to be sucker-punched and downed as well. She watched. There might not be blood if Mal just swallowed his pride. It was easy to watch considering the way he'd acted. But Zoe didn't deserve a busted lip for Mal's pride, nor he really deserve a gun pulled in his face.

She jumped. The thatch broke and she landed on the gun. The bullet squeezed off in alarm went into the dirt. Commotion made things easier. Zoe freed herself and Adalyn yanked her own gun to aim it at the faux-posh man in the derby hat.

The fight stopped quickly and she waited. Mal stood and looked around. Zoe had frozen, too. They were waiting for a word from Mal. Even she was. Kill or no kill, that was his power now. She would squeeze the trigger if he told her to.

"She your new piece?" the man asked, trying to be a bit unflustered at the gun. His cockney accent was annoying.

"Muscle," he answered.

The man looked her up and down, "Bet she fetches a pretty penny."

"Free to good home," she quipped.

"He's the best you got yourself? Not so much a good home. Man ain't even on the totem pole. Owes me cashy, you see. Shame you weren't looking to switch. Be a place for a gal like you."

"How much does he owe?"

"Hundred platinum."

"I'm good for it."

He eyed her, hungry, "You offering yourself t'me?"

"Am."

"Adalyn!"

She didn't look at Mal, "How you got me, isn't it?"

"Not sure I want some o' his sloppy seconds."

"Not. That's the fun part."

"Untouched?"

"By him, at least," she smiled.

"You face the gun his way I'll take that offer."

"Whole day and night. Not more."

"Limitations, luv?"

"Nothing other than that."

His smiled got bigger, wider, "I'll consider the debt paid, then."

"Don't do this."

She aimed the gun at Mal and he froze, wide-eyed. The man gave a chuckle, "Seems you're free to go. No worries, she'll be back to you tomorrow."

"Ada—"

She cocked the hammer. He looked once at the man before looking back at her. It took a long moment, but he walked out. She stood there, the gun still aimed at his back. The man, who she realized she didn't even know the name of, slid his hand and arm around her waist to pull her a bit closer. She found his other hand over hers on the gun, keeping it pointed away at the ground.

"You'll have to forgive me, luv, but as tingly as you armed makes me, rather not be meeting the maker right at the moment."

She smiled. Evilly.

* * *

When Mal walked back onto _Serenity_, his mood was anything but up. He'd thought bringing the younger Santayana off that ship and on to his would've saved her some trouble and him some guilty conscience. But that was still to be seen. She was testing him like some rebellious child and the worst part was that she was right to do so. He ran all the reasons through his head why she might actually be grateful to him, and none of them seemed good enough. No matter how much he saw a broken young woman, she wasn't about to be anything besides the sister of men he'd got killed. Someone he owed. And maybe he did owe her. She'd saved his skin, the skin of his crew, twice in the last week without being asked to do so.

Maybe that was why she was walking around, haunted. She was falling into some role she didn't want. Whore, she could obviously handle. But assassin? That was something she wasn't ready to accept.

He still found himself fuming around dinner and wondered just what Adalyn was doing that he had only dreamed about. That's what made it worse. The dreaming. She'd been so willing when he stayed with her on that ship and ever since he'd pushed her off his lap on his own _Serenity_, the dreams had been nonstop. Some so bad that he couldn't look her in the eye afterwards for a day or so.

Quiet as dinner was, he barely noticed that he was the last one sitting there. Most of the ambient lighting had turned down a bit and the ship was about as dim as it was going to get. Made it close to midnight aboard the boat.

A bound leather bag was tossed on the table. He looked at it for a moment, over his shoulder after that to see Adalyn. She looked a bit bloody but he quickly realized none of it was hers. They stared at each other for a moment.

He looked at the table, "What's this?"

"Payment. For a job well done. Thought you should get it."

"I don't own you."

She leaned down into his space, her mouth right next to his ear, "Best you remember that."

She walked away and he sat there for a moment. She was at the back entrance to the kitchen when he said her name. She looked at him. His gaze was still on the table.

"Thought you'd be back tomorrow."

"He changed his mind."

"You change it for him?"

"If I did?"

"Can't have you killing all my business."

"Not dead. Job with him might just be a little more lucrative next time around, in fact. I do my job well."

"Assassin? Or whore?"

She smiled, "A lady never tells."

"You're no lady."

"Reality is subjective, Captain."

* * *

Adalyn turned and walked off, the Captain's gaze still on her. If he knew what she'd done…

She would always see herself as a killer.


	7. A Lost Apple

The deep black of night had a way of penetrating everything. It made the bones shiver, the snow seem a bit evil. Twenty-nine. The murmurs of conversations were like a distant ocean. Softly pounding on the soul, making him perfectly aware that there wasn't much to do except listen to it. He shifted with his gun still propped against his chest. One. There was no fighting, but there was always that chance. The chance those men out there would find new ammo and get new orders. So, he had to be ready. Two. There were some men who'd just given up and gone to sleep. No matter the Alliance was entrenched so close to their own fortifications. Some men even had conversations. He hadn't been listening in. Three. He didn't really much care for the banter. It was only to pass the time, he knew, but talking to the enemy always made them seem like less of one. Made them humans and not just soldiers following orders. Four. He wasn't interested in that at the moment. Five.

Malcolm Reynolds gave up. He could only count to twenty-nine so many times before the numbers just started rolling together, one long incessant string of vowels and consonants. That's all there was of them. Twenty-nine. Against what he figured was a full regiment of Alliance troops. The food had run out, the ammo'd been used up, and now they were just sitting there. The orders, if there were any, had gotten lost in transmit and now they were all stuck here in the snowed-in trench.

A young man plopped down across from him. Santayana, if he remembered correctly. Mark. He wasn't much younger than Mal, but he was inexperienced. Some core-world brat who'd decided to fight with them to make some great political stand. But he was a decent sort of fellow. Clean-shaven and pale. His eyes almost glowed in the darkness. Glowed bright green. The man waited, eyeing him.

"What?"

Mark shifted, caught staring, "Nothing. Just came over for some conversation."

"Ain't gonna find any."

"We're out of rations, Reynolds."

Mal cringed on the inside. The man wouldn't address him by rank. Said it wasn't something he did. He'd tried to call him by his first name. Mal wouldn't hear of it. So, Mark unwilling to use rank and Mal unwilling to be called by his first name, they'd settled on his last name.

"Had noticed."

"How much longer do you think we'll be here?"

"Could be a good while, Private."

They remained quiet for a good while. Mal hadn't cared much for the man when he got moved into his company less than a month ago. Hell, maybe it hadn't even been that long. Maybe it was only a few weeks. Mal couldn't remember exactly. But the clean-shaven and decent man didn't look like a soldier. But he could fight. He was good with a gun. Right now, that was all that mattered.

"You got family, Reynolds?"

"Some kin on Shadow."

"Kids? Siblings?"

"No. You?"

"Sister. Royal pain in the _pee-goo­_, too."

"Kids?"

"Wife's pregnant."

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

They both turned their head to the sounds of some men farther down yelling insults to the Alliance troops. Zoe, his corporal, came closer. She sat next to Mal.

"No new orders, sir," she said simply.

"Figured as much."

"Private," she greeted Mark tersely.

He tried to smile at her, "Miss Alleyne."

Zoe rolled her eyes and put her gun at her side. She looked to Mal, "Sir, we ain't got much time left we don't get some rations."

"Where you planning on finding some?"

Another shout from farther down the line made them all turn to look. An apple fell over Mal's head and he looked at it. He looked down the line and saw a bushel's worth come raining down over the snowy banks. He picked his up and looked at it.

The bottom had been cut out and then put back in. His face went taut. He looked down to his starving men.

"Wait!"

There were three small explosions. He hadn't even had a chance to get to his feet. Three men gone, like that. Their heads blown clean away and all that was left was the middle of the chest down. Mal cursed under his breath. He could hear laughter in the other trench. He picked up his apple and tore out the replaced bottom. The grizwald grenade on the inside was small; it fit in the palm of his hand. He stood, in full view, and chucked it back to the other trench. He smiled when the small explosion went off, some screams dulling the pain of losing three of his own. Without the apple, there was no cushion and the grenade just popped. Some men, those who hadn't been splattered with body parts, did the same.

Mal stood there, watching the little pops of light and sound across the way. There were more panicked screams, more cursing. He could live with that.

He sat back down to the frozen and cold earth and took out a knife, cutting into the clean apple. He offered the first slice to Zoe. The second he gave to Mark. Slicing off a third chunk, he popped it in his own mouth, savoring the sweetness of it. One.


	8. A Lost Warmth

_She just disappeared. Gone from sight with a resounding splash and crack. Ice chunks and cold white water flew up while she went down. Mal didn't realize for a moment that they were on a lake. He hadn't noticed. The patch of thin ice she fell into settled. _

_ His boots didn't give him much grip as he ran over, tearing off his jacket in the run. Zoe was right behind him. He gained enough speed to ignore her shouting after him. All he knew was that Adalyn wasn't coming back up on her own. _

_ Diving, plunging, into the frozen waters, it felt like knives. The ice chunks closed up behind him and he opened his eyes to find her. Her ivory skin stood out in the blackness. He swam down to her, tried to grab her, because the trail of blood she was leaving behind was too precious to sink away from him._

* * *

The capture was what he'd been waiting for. The answer to that question he'd posed the night before. Traditionally, he had to wait for the response. But, luckily, she'd come to a conclusion ever so quickly. Which, if he was a pessimist, would be a rather bad thing. But he was sure she would accept the invitation to be a wife.

He held the capture at his front. His mother, still being who she was, called up to him.

"Are you coming down to dinner?"

"I'll be there, Mom."

Mark Santayana almost pressed play. Almost heard and saw the answer to his question.

A quick hand snatched the capture. Hope had appeared out of nowhere. He couldn't believe, after all this time, that she was right here, in front of him. He gaped at her. She saw the capture and it was as if she'd never left. His little sister had been gone for so long and now she was here, looking at his capture.

"Hope? What…what are you doing here?"

"Oooh, Yvette Hancock…is this what I think this is?"

His question went unanswered and he became the big brother again, "Hey, give it."

She ran with a whoop and her bare feet silently whisked her down the hallway.

Mark ran through the house. The floorboards weren't prepared for the heavy-girthed, full-grown man stomping at the seams while he ran straight around the second floor of the mansion. All the hidey-holes gave her the best chance at getting away mostly because she was lithe and fast and Mark had never been able to catch her even when she was younger.

Hope ran around the bed frame of the last guest room. She quickly popped the window open and jumped out, catching the roof and then the big maple tree that battered the shingles. She heard Mark curse and she only laughed and ran down quicker. Her bare feet hit the grass and she looked up to see Mark trying to be the nimble shadow.

"You give that back to me, girl!" he yelled, shaking his fist as he gingerly went towards the outlying tree branches.

She held the capture in her hands, the still image that of the young heiress down on the other side of the village. She waved it in the air and waited, knowing that no matter how quick Mark was, she was quicker.

She was grabbed. She yelped and struggled against Jo's arms. He manhandled her down to the soft grass. He tore the capture from her hands and then ran around the base of the tree when she shot up after him.

"Jo!"

Mark landed behind her and she yelped when he grabbed for her. She scampered up the tree, out of reach, and watched as Jo taunted Mark with the capture. She climbed back up the tree, crossing from branch to rooftop and back into the guest room window. One of the servants quickly dodged out of her way when she darted for the door, running down the hallway back to the stairwell. She ran to the last window at the hall, opening it too and climbing down another maple to find herself only feet away from her tied horse. She undid the reins and held them in one palm. Barefooted and still in her church dress, she jumped onto the palomino without a saddle and made a kissing smack with her lips.

The young thing cantered over and she saw, before too long, her brothers wrestling. She caught up with them and saw the capture in question tossed aside as now it was beyond principle. Now Mark was trying to prove just how much older he was and how much Jo could stand to learn from him.

With her horse still at a canter, she leaned down and reached for the capture. Like the ballet teacher had always said, she was more equipped for gymnastics than dance. Her body splayed out over the side of the horse and her hand briskly grabbed the flat device. Her brothers quickly rolled away from the hooves and Hope slowed the horse while sticking her tongue out at them both.

"You gimme that!"

Mark sprung at her and her horse and she made another kiss smack for the horse to take off. She galloped back to the house, tying the horse back up and dashing into the house. She ducked under the serving tray of a servant and made her way into the kitchen.

"Mom! Hey, guess what Mark got?"

Her mother turned to face her and her displayed emotion was closer to sadness than curiosity. She almost stopped dead in her tracks.

"Mom?"

"Hope? How…how can you be here?"

"This is home, you know. Pretty sure I can be anywhere here."

"No, child. How did this happen?"

"What?"

"How did you get here?"

The question irked Hope. She wasn't sure how she got here. She only knew she was here. It had been cold for a moment. Stabbing cold. Like knives put in a cold bin for too long and dug in everywhere at once. But here was warm and where she wanted to be more than anywhere.

"I don't know. But it doesn't matter. I'm here."

"You can't stay here."

Hope backpedaled and ignored the pounding feet of her brothers coming closer, "What do you mean?"

"You can't stay. I can't let you."

"But this is where I want to stay. I love it here."

Her mother came closer, taking her up in her arms with those big-bear hugs she usually reserved for the most serious situations.

"My darling daughter. I am so proud of you. Proud of everything you've become. But you can't stay here with us."

She looked behind her. Mark and Jo had stopped at the threshold of the kitchen. Her father looked up from the messy prep table with a small stack of bulletins by his side. They were all staring at her.

"You can't stay, sweetie."

Hope felt her head swim with confusion. Nothing that she saw felt wrong, or out of place, or anything but what she was so lovingly attached to. Her mother held her at arm's length, looking at her. Hope felt her heart get heavier. Get slower.

"But I was supposed to ride in the show next Saturday."

"You can't stay. And you know why?"

She shook her head.

"Because they need you. That crew needs you there."

"I…what? Why? I'm needed here."

"Hope, you know there's nothing here for you anymore. I have to send you back. You can't expect me to just welcome you with open arms."

Her mother's grip on her upper arms was tight, but not painful. Desperate, perhaps. She stared at her for a moment longer, looking. Hope knew suddenly where she'd gotten that assassin's glare from. Her mother had been the owner of it, had passed it down to her. She shifted.

She wanted to fight this. Fight going back. But her mother, with that awe-inspiring glare, made her realize just how futile the argument would be. She hung her head a little.

"You know it's the right thing to do. And what kind of mother would I be if I let you stay with me?"

Hope smiled in spite of the situation. She touched heads with her mother and let her hold her close. Another hand on her shoulder made her look around. Jo came closer. Mark did, too. She hugged them. Mark scuffing her hair up like he should and always used to do.

She turned to her father, her wise father, and he stood. Stood for her. They hugged. He kissed her on her forehead and wrapped her in his arms for a moment.

"I'm so proud of you, Hope."

She felt a tear when he whispered into her ear, still holding her tight. She tightened her embrace and he kissed her again on the crown of her head. Holding her at arms length not a second later, he smiled.

"You go take care of those guys."

She nodded, "I will."

"Now, let's get you packed up."

Her father reached behind him, picking up a new-found set of combat boots. He handed them over to her.

"You should know better than to leave these on the table."

She took them. She looked at herself. The dress was gone. Cargo pants and a tank top. There was armor under the top and it weighed her down. Her boots were heavy and clunky, not at all the barefooted elegance she'd been running around in for the last eternity. They were of that other place. Of cold and knives that stabbed everywhere at once.

"You'd think."

She pulled her boots on. Her brain hurt for a moment. Soft blue with white bubbles. Chaos with black bodies swimming through it. But it all seemed so far away. She looked around for her gunbelts. She could've sworn she'd left them in the kitchen. She couldn't tell why she would leave them there, but she knew she had.

"You didn't bring them this time, darling," her mom spoke up.

She smiled, knowing better than to be surprised at her mother's intellectual leap at what she'd been looking for. She stood there, picking up the coat she'd draped over her father's chair and wrapping that around her, too. She started to walk for the door of the kitchen. She stopped at the threshold, looking back at her family.

"I don't want to go," she said tiredly.

Her mother only stared at her, understanding and resolute.

* * *

Mal pumped Adalyn's chest again with open hands, pressing down hard with each thrust and not caring that he heard the sternum of her ribcage crack. He stopped and lowered his mouth over hers. He held her nose shut while blowing through her parted lips.

She was blue, cold and so very limp. No fire in her eyes, no flush in her cheeks. Nothing alive.

He started pressing on her chest again. Zoe took his arm, "Sir…"

He threw her grip and kept on pumping, waiting for some motion in her body to be of her own strength and not the echoes of his attempts to revive her.

"Sir."

He closed his mouth over hers again. His own hands were freezing, losing feeling. His breath was ragged and hoarse. But he tried again.

"Mal!"

He looked at Zoe in shock. His name. He'd forgotten it in the frenzy. She was looking at him that way that made his throat close up and his breath absent from his lungs. He shook his head.

"No. No, she ain't dead."

"Let her go peacefully."

"No."

"Mal, it's been too long."

He didn't care about the logic. He stared at Zoe for another second, knowing suddenly that he'd stopped trying to bring her back. He turned his eyes away from that look and overlapped his hands again over her chest, looking at those closed eyes instead.

"No. You wake up, gorrammit! You wake up now!"

Zoe sat back on her haunches in the snow. She stayed there, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Wake up! You don't go anywhere! Not without us, you hear? Not without us!"

He covered her mouth again and gave the breath he knew he'd given before. Knew, better than anything, that it had to work this time. It didn't matter how long. It only mattered that she could keep fighting. She'd been dealt worse than a single gunshot. Than a cold lake under ice. She could do this. She could fight and he would make her realize it.

"Come back! Dammit, you haul your ass back here! Fight!"

He covered her mouth again, pulling back to look at her, take her face in his hands, "You fight!"

He covered her mouth again. She coughed. He gasped at the motion from cold lips and he pulled back, holding her steady as she coughed. Zoe sprang up, taking her coat off to lay it over her. Adalyn continued coughing, her eyes welded shut and her face still white and blue.

"Addy. Addy, you stay here, okay? You stay with us."

She didn't say anything, her head lolling from side to side with each cough while they subsided. He held her face.

"You just hang in there. Doc's on the way."

"She…doesn't want…me to stay," she slurred, swollen throat and cold lungs making her words seem so weak.

Mal's brow furrowed, "Who?"

"Can't…can't stay gone…not forever."

He stayed hovering over her, "No. You're home. You're back."

* * *

He'd stripped down to bare threads, his dry coat the only thing covering them. Twenty minutes had made it harder. She'd slipped back and forth. She had been stripped down mostway, too. And Zoe was the one to keep them both close, pressing her body to theirs to give them the warmth they needed. Besides giving her coat to Adalyn, she hadn't taken a single thing off. Mal had insisted that someone needed to be healthy to run the ship. And she felt that pang of admiration when he tried not to show how cold he was, giving Adalyn the benefit of sitting between him and Zoe. But she could feel him shivering. Adalyn was beyond that. She was too numb to feel anymore and that's what had made them both more worried than they let on. And when that silver gray underbelly of _Serenity_ hovered overhead, Mal had tightened his grip on Zoe's hand. It felt like being gripped by an ice cube. Without about as much reassurance.

Simon had come down with the loft, helping carry Adalyn while Mal stumbled. Zoe knew all too well that Mal wasn't going to let himself be minded while Adalyn was still a frozen body. And even walking to the infirmary had been hard; mostly because he refused to be helped along and was about the same shade as the blue room itself. Adalyn was beyond that, too.

* * *

He held his head in his hands. It had all been slow motion. She'd been shot in the shoulder. Shot in the right side of her, and back she fell. She'd slipped. Fell. Crashed through ice they hadn't even realized they were standing on. It had been a death shot from the man he'd downed. It just happened to be aimed the wrong way.

Mal hadn't thought twice about diving in after her, through that indigo hole into icy, frozen waters. He was just grateful there hadn't been a current. He'd followed the black trail of blood until he'd found her. She'd come to rest on the bottom, that armor and her weapons weighing her down. She must've hit her head in the fall 'cause there hadn't been any attempt on her part to swim back up. By the time he'd gotten to her, she was already still. He'd had to undo and let sink her belted guns to even get her light enough for dragging back skyward.

Zoe had thrown a rope to them when they reached the surface. It had been hard to drag her onto the ice. Hard and cold and painful. Her blood had started to freeze on the ice by the time he hauled himself out the water.

But he hadn't cared that he couldn't feel his toes or fingers. At least he'd had enough sense to strip from his long coat before he dove in after her. Zoe had put that around him while he'd tried to revive her. He hadn't noticed. He still felt cold on the inside. Like he hadn't brought her around. Like at any moment he would walk up from his bunk and see Kaylee crying, River sobbing, because he'd failed at saving her.

The ladder swung down and he looked up, brushing hair from his eyes when he did. Kaylee was right; he needed a haircut. Bare feet came down the rungs and he didn't stand when he saw Adalyn's face follow. She still looked pale, but at least she had a fatigued smile on her face.

"Hey."

"Doc say you could be up?"

"Just a flesh wound. Still a little cold. But, he says I'm out of danger. Heard tell you jumped in after me."

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it. Just glad to have you back."

"Think Zoe's more upset at you than me. Which is nice for a change. What with the reckless jumping in and everything…I think you scared her."

"Didn't think."

"Thank you."

She about turned to go, never having come in very far, and that was when he realized he'd saved her; he'd lost her and found her, bringing her back when she had no right or reason to come.

"Addy."

She turned. Something reflected in those eyes and she didn't say a word. She pulled down her long sleeves to her palms and crossed her arms, moving to sit next to him on his bed. Like she knew nothing she said would make what he needed to say come out quicker. Only she and Zoe knew him that well. Well enough to know what he needed was nothing more than patience.

"Thought you'd gone," he choked out after a moment.

Her brow furrowed a bit, "Can't say I hadn't."

He touched her. Touched her because he needed to feel how warm she could be. Considering a few hours ago she'd been cold as death, feeling warmth beneath her skin made his eyes well over. She didn't say anything. She gently reached out and wiped away the tear with her thumb. He let their foreheads touch and he felt more warm saltiness trail from the corner of his eye. She sighed, her own emotion touched by his.

"I'm here, Mal. Not leaving any time soon."

He wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight to him. Again with the jumping without thinking. For a moment, her body was motionless and unresponsive. He wondered if he'd made some terrible mistake from guilt and fear and had started to consider pulling away when she finally melted. Her arms huddled to him, her body fitting in the curve of his own. He held her. Make sure he warmed her. Make sure she knew she'd come back to something worth living for.

They were interrupted by a comm call. Mal pulled away slowly, wishing desperately that nothing had this wonderful moment cut short.

"Captain? Have you seen Adalyn?"

It was Simon. Mal looked back to her and she gave a tired grin. He rolled his eyes.

"No. Why?"

"She's not in the infirmary."

"She s'posed to be?"

"Yes."

"I'll take a look, then."

"Thanks."

The comm sputtered back to quiet and Mal looked at her disapprovingly, "Thought you said he cleared you from the infirmary."

"I lied. Had a feeling you needed to see I wasn't a ghost."

"Maybe you should get back. Keep him from worrying. Get some more rest."

"I'd rather rest here."

He stared at her. Open and honest. So direct about things that he would hedge around. He caught himself staring for a moment before he actually stopped, pulling back into the present.

"Can't say that's a good idea. You're hurt."

She kissed him. He knew she wanted this. This transitory comfort. This human warmth. She needed it for the long moment she kissed him. He found himself reacting in all the ways he couldn't afford to. All the ways he wanted to act on.

She pulled back slow, hazed eyes staring at him, "I just need to be warm. Nothing else."

"Can't say I'm the best one to give you that."

Her smile was sympathetic. Understanding, "Don't need bedding, Mal. Just a bed."

He nodded, not at all embarrassed at the confusion on his part. He nodded. He got off the bed and she lay down, favoring her healthy shoulder. He pulled the blanket up before grabbing the other one. He nestled them up to her chin before sitting aside her. She curled up a little.

"You saved my life," she said softly.

He didn't know what to say to that. She took his hand in hers again and he just sat there, watching her drift away. He finally leaned in and kissed her on the forehead, knowing exactly what she needed.

"You stay here. I'll be back before long."

She nodded with her last moments of conscious alertness. He moved from her side.

* * *

Zoe watched the captain walk straight to the teakettle. He looked calmer than he'd been when he'd made his way to his bunk earlier. She almost hated Adalyn for making him care that much. That much where he would jump in after her. Oh, she had no doubt that he would do the same for her, should the time come for it. And she couldn't say that she hadn't been ready to do the deed herself, but knowing that Mal cared that much to not give her the chance was something she hadn't seen in him before. And, seeing him break down so quickly when he thought she wouldn't be coming back made it harder. She'd known they shared a respect for each other. Hell, she liked the girl well enough; but Mal had taken her in, made her his responsibility the way Simon did for River. At least on some level, that was what their relationship was about. About Mal fulfilling some role Mark and Jo had passed on to him without ever meaning to.

But when he walked into the kitchen, she knew Adalyn had gone to his bunk. She hadn't seen it, but she knew. Just knew. And, considering the young doctor was frantically trying to find her, Zoe wasn't too sure how she felt about it. Some part of her wondered just how their relationship worked—Mal and Adalyn's.

She could remember a time when she was the one he looked after like a little sister. For her career in the army, she'd never had purpose in life until Mal had shown her how. Which, considering how he'd changed, was an impressive feat. She could remember when they were a little more than good friends, though not by much on _that_ level. He was fulfilling some role that had been passed on to him by some haunting or conviction. And it was the same for Adalyn.

Only she thought, just sometimes, that their relationship had crossed lines more than necessary. And Adalyn was the one who would just walk where she wanted, no matter Mal was the captain. No matter she was twenty years his junior. No matter that it might cause complications. He was the captain. She was a cook who could kill a man at three hundred yards with a single shot.

Simon came back in and saw the captain, "Have you seen her?"

He shook his head, bringing hot tea to his lips, "Haven't. Why? She gonna freeze on us or something?"

Simon shifted a little, "No. Not really. But she was dead. For several minutes. There could be brain damage or long-term effects. And she's still suffering a bit from the hypothermia. Speaking of, how are you feeling?"

Mal raised the cup a little, "Just warming the bones. I'm sure she'll turn up when she wants to. Long as she ain't in any more real danger."

Simon nodded, unconvinced. Mal watched him go before looking to Zoe, "Thanks for not saying anything."

She nodded. Mal wasn't as obtuse as some people thought he was. They'd known each other too long to not know enough. And he'd known she had the idea where Adalyn was. Enough idle body language that only he and Wash could ever read.

"Bringing her tea?"

"Was a plan. You want some?"

"Fine, sir. You think she'll be all right?"

"Just tired, is all. Just wants to be left alone."

She nodded again, "You find yourself needing your bunk back, let me know. I can give her a warm bed for a while. Away from the doc."

He stared at her for a moment. The smallest tinge of a smile came over his face. He let it, "Thanks."

"You would do the same," she said, knowing it had been needed and warranted times before.

He took another sip of his tea before reaching for the other cup. He walked back to his bunk. Zoe sat there, listening to the familiar sounds of his door opening and closing. Familiar and new. She knew full well he wouldn't impose Adalyn into her bunk, no matter how long she slept or when she decided to leave. But she'd offered, and he'd done the same for her some times before, back in the war and a few times later, when life had been cut too closely for her tastes. When she was green and new to the real thing of war. Back then, he'd let her into his tent and he'd read from the bible; some passages she swore she had memorized and ones that were special to his kin. And they would sit and drink weak tea, just enjoying the company. And when she could endure silence no more, she would cry and he would hold her. Let her be weak and human. They would never speak of it, but they both needed it on occasion. Both needed to confess to someone. Both needed to be comforted in the face of angry, malicious war.

No, she knew exactly what Adalyn wanted and needed. She'd needed it then, too.

* * *

He put the tea to the side. She was too deeply asleep. He didn't want to wake her. Her chest rose and fell under the thick blanket while her fists stayed clenched by her face. Another small smile played over his face. He took off his boots, standing them squarely at the end of the bed, before laying down next to her. For so small a bunk, he didn't mind. He knew how to deal with hypothermia. He'd had other, less fortunate experiences back home.

He lifted the blanket and slid under it, her body still cool compared to the fever it should've had under the fleece. Chest to chest, he stayed at her front and wrapped her in his arms. Her fists uncurled and she was still asleep. She felt cool against him. He kissed her again on the forehead, one arm under her neck and the other wrapped over her side and back. Her head lay under his chin, her soft breaths running over the fabric of his shirt. He hadn't realized how exhausted he was until she'd shown him. Until he'd laid with her. He didn't care if the doc tore the ship up looking for her. Didn't care that this was just one more complication they didn't need. It was what it was.

Warmth.


	9. A Lost Life

**A/N: Long one here, but covers serious issues. Still rated T, but coming dangerously close to M, so reader beware. Here there be monsters.**

* * *

The magazine clicked harshly into place. The gun shined under the dim lighting of his bunk. Old pictures were on the floor, torn down months ago and just never tossed. Was easier, to do it like this. None of them knowing. None of them able to stop him.

He should'a gone with her. He was big, burly, enough brawn to put most men out the mindset for trouble around a girl like Kaylee. But he didn't. No one did. And now things were bad.

He knew how to deal with bad. Go and get revenge.

The ladder door to his cramped bunk kicked down and all he did was keep his precious Vera close to his chest, Binky and other specialties tight on his belt and holsters. Didn't much care who it was and if they caught sight of him like this. Didn't have a mind to argue. Just to do. Just to fight.

It was Adalyn. Could'a been worse. Could'a been Mal...or anyone else right now. At least Adalyn...she would understand. Might try stopping him, but she would get it. Girl like his was bound to get it and why he wanted to do this. He kept filling magazines, kept clinking them to his belt, one by one, loading up for the fight he expected to cause.

"What are you doing?" her voice was soft against the sound of clamping bits.

"What's it look like I'm doing?"

"Mal said not to. If you walk off this boat now? Do this? He'll space you when you get back."

"It's Kaylee."

That was enough. She sobered more. Her face fell and those green eyes went with it. The tightly controlled veil of distance fell away and she looked about as upset as Jayne had ever seen her. No more assassin. No more strength. Just acceptance and sadness. She nodded, "I know."

"Should'a gone with her when she asked. Said no. Said I was busy polishin Vera."

"She asked me too, Jayne. But this..."

He looked at her for the lingering unsaid. Really looked at her. Found a bit of blood caked on her lip, a small bruise around it. He stared at it before looking her in the eyes.

She shrugged, "Doc felt the need to express the fact that I didn't go with her."

"Weren't your fault. Know who done this. Now it's time to make 'em pay."

"I'm coming with you."

He stared at her. Waiting for something more. Wishing she'd back out because she'd never really seen him mad like this before. Didn't like the notion of her seeing it at all. She took a step closer, tired from anger and anguish.

She hesitated, "But when we find him, we're not killing him. We don't have the right."

"Like hell!"

"There's someone else on this boat who deserves the kill."

He bristled, "You think for one gorramn minute I'm handing that _hwoon dahn_ over to the cap, you got to be—"

"Not Mal, Jayne. Not Mal."

He looked at the bruise on her lip, the blood caked there, and nodded. Leave it to his girl to be right. That, he could agree with. Weren't his girl laid out in the infirmary. Weren't his kill.

* * *

River walked into the infirmary. Flashes, moments of pain in a body so soundly asleep. Her brother stayed hunched over Kaylee. River said his name softly. He looked over his shoulder at her, leaving Kaylee's side to come to hers. She stared at Kaylee for a moment.

"She's hurting inside."

"_Mei mei_…I'm sorry. Is everything…are you okay?"

"You need to rest. Things only get more complicated."

"I can't. She needs supervision."

"Simon. You need to sleep a little. You're no good to the others when they'll need you most if you don't sleep."

"River…"

"Please. Just for a little while. I'll keep watch."

"No. You should stay out of here. It's not good for you."

River took his hand, "Stronger than I look, silly. Let me help."

"I need to be here. Please…tell me you understand that."

River nodded tiredly. There was no ground to be won when the battle had been decided in favor of her brother. She looked again at Kaylee.

"She'll be fine, Simon. I promise."

Simon nodded, unconvinced. He took his seat back at the mechanic's side. River walked out of his domain, that place of cold steel and white distance. She moved to the cargo bay. The ship wasn't thrumming. It was still as the mechanic who was its heart. She found her jacks tucked in a random corner of the bay. If things were better, Kaylee would be playing with her; tales of boys and past affairs, girly things that River had never fully had chances to explore. She wished she could be like Kaylee.

Adalyn and Jayne walked down the stairs. Adalyn noticed her. Jayne didn't. He was loaded to rims with objects. He understood substances. Black ash, sulfur, some other ingredients to make the projectile project. Adalyn walked over and only stared at her. Her lip was still bloody from where Simon had landed a punch.

River went to touch the forming scab. Adalyn deflected it and gently grabbed her wrist. There would be blood. Adalyn and Jayne knew what they were meant to do. Alone, together, they would do what no one else was willing, able, capable, of doing. River nodded.

"It's his choice in the end."

Adalyn let go of her wrist, "Keep an eye."

River watched her silently catch up to Jayne. Two barrels of the gun with different projectiles. Shell and hydrashock. Diffusion and explosion. One external, meant to distract and shallow the forces. Other pinpointed and meant to do the interior damage. But they would kill to get their target. River had no doubt of that. Dealing with pain was hard for everyone. Adalyn and Jayne compensated by giving pain back. Lashed out.

She turned. Simon was still in the infirmary, drooping eyelids that had swollen with condensation.

* * *

_Finding her target in her crosshairs, Adalyn took another moment to verify that was in fact the guy she was supposed to be killing and not some near-alive look-alike. She reset her PSR and shouldered it tight, not wanting it to bounce because she knew the first shot wouldn't be the only. Mal, Jayne and Simon were down there with the none-too-legit contact. Zoe was somewhere on another building top, eyes for them all since she turned out to be the highest._

_"You see him?" her voice crackled a bit in Adalyn's ear through the little insert there._

_"Yup."_

_The overlying conversation that Mal was having barely registered since she and Zoe had turned him down and each other up._

_"Wait for the signal."_

_Adalyn rolled her eyes. Wasn't like she hadn't done this before. It'd just been a few weeks since the last stakeout. Now she was here again, on the job, and she was grateful for it. Grief had put her out of commission too long and being back was something she'd never thought would feel so good._

_She could see Mal handed the sack of money. She braced her PSR, waiting for that one phrase. The money wasn't the gig. The man handing it to them and his goons were. For once, they were working with the law and the law wanted him dead. Reward money was better than any job the dead-man working for Hamza could'a offered. Mal had just been discreet as to who exactly was working with him. She was a fugitive, Simon an outlaw, and Jayne was Jayne. So that really left him and Zoe considered as the only ones to do this job. Of course it would've never gone down like that._

_She smiled to see Simon squirming. He wasn't taken out to many of these but the necessity of having a Doctor for the drop had been obvious when Hamza had made his proposition. Double-crosses were always fun._

_And two cuts from one job were always better than one._

_"Figure that concludes this little transaction," Mal said, his voice so tiny in her earpiece._

_She squeezed her trigger and the main-man went down without chance, a bullet in his heart. Hamza's hired hands scrambled to look for her but found themselves being shot at by everyone. Her, Zoe, Mal and Jayne. She smiled when most of them had dropped. Her crosshairs were far enough away from the three of hers that she didn't mind keeping the trigger tight and fired at will, not bothering to make each death solely a one-bullet deal._

_"Simon!" Mal's voice came over the earpiece._

_She scrambled back to find the boy in her scope, seeing that her initial one-shot-kill hadn't been a success. Hwoon dahn was wearing armor under that tank and damn him if he hadn't taken Simon cover. Mal and Jayne stopped shooting. There were only two of his boys left, but they fell in once they saw him on the winning side of the fight._

_"Jayne, face the peons," she said._

_Jayne and Mal went back to back and Adalyn aimed up her crosshairs. The man had a revolver aimed at the boy's temple and she aimed for the glint of it._

_The man was shouting at them, telling them just what he'd do if they didn't throw down their weapons and just what to expect for double-crossing his boss._

_She squeezed her trigger again. The bullet hit the revolver and ricocheted up into his eye. Simon jumped out of his skin. She smiled when the man screamed. She could hear it without the earpiece. She fired again and the shot hit his forehead. He went down hard and Jayne capped the last two while they stood stunned. She brought her eye out from behind her scope to see the scene._

_"Thank you kindly, Adalyn," Mal said, looking in her general direction._

_"Sorry about that. Thought he was downed."_

_He shrugged. Simon walked over to Mal and she could hear his voice, so hollow, in the earpiece. He hadn't been given one for the exact reason that he was nervous enough without it. No need to add fun conversations to his mind._

_"Doc says to tell you: you owe him a drink."_

_"Like shit. He owes me one. I saved his ass."_

_Mal relayed the message and even from the distance, she could see Simon glare at Mal and indirectly at her. She smiled. It had been too long since she'd done this. Zoe walked over to her and her lack-of-smile was enough of one to tell her that she was happy at it._

_"We'll take the body to Bourne. You and the guys can head back to Serenity. We'll need to get out of here before Hamza gets anrgy," she said easily._

_Adalyn nodded and walked away with her. She could still hear Simon hissy-fitting in the background while Mal was constantly in her ear's foreground telling him to chill. Zoe actually cracked a smile._

_"I think you pissed him off."_

_She shrugged, "Haven't done it in a while."_

_"Shouldn't take it so hard on him. Good kid."_

_"I thought I was the good one," she feigned defensiveness._

_They started down the ladder, Zoe first, "You're not the kid."_

_"Oh, I see. I'm the mature and responsible oldest."_

_"Oldest, I'll agree with."_

_Going from the base of the building to the dry desert sand, they continued on foot to where Mal, Jayne and Simon were dealing with the body._

_"Thanks for talking the Captain into letting me in on this one."_

_Zoe nodded, "Had a feeling you were ready to be back. Good to have you."_

_"Good to be useful."_

_"Nice shot, by the way. Would've loved to have a scope myself. You ricochet it off the revolver? Make it hit the eye like that?" _

_"Yeah."_

_"Be sure to tell the Doc he owes you double drinks."_

_Adalyn sighed because Simon was already coming at her, "Ah, my adoring fan," she mumbled under her breath._

_Zoe smiled and walked over to Mal. Jayne had pulled the mule up and the three of them went about loading the body up, being sure to avoid the gaping holes in his head. She gave a tired smile to Simon._

_"Good shot, huh?"_

_"You bu-tai jung-tzang-du bun tyen-shung duh ee-day-ro!" he glared at her._

_She blinked at the insult but remained stoically detached, "You're welcome, at any rate."_

_"You could've killed me."_

_She pointed at him, "But I didn't."_

_She spun her PSR to her back when the mule came over. Mal tossed her the bag of coin and she caught it, grateful for the heft._

_"You three get back to Serenity. Should be back by nightfall."_

_She nodded, Jayne coming up beside her, "Anything special for dinner?"_

_"Baos," Zoe said simply._

_"We got enough for dough?" Mal asked._

_"I can go shopping before I hit the ship."_

_"If you please."_

_She nodded and watched Mal and Zoe speed off in the mule before walking over to the dead bodies to scavenge what she'd seen from topside. Jayne and Simon watched her and only Simon seemed to have the problem._

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Stealing."_

_She rummaged through pockets until she found the flask she'd seen before, and a pouch of money besides. Body by body, she found goodies and Jayne helped carry them. All in all, she had the flask, about an extra hundred bits, and a handful of useful guns and ammunition to show for her troubles. Simon continued to glare at her._

_"You disgust me."_

_"Desperate times."_

_"We got paid," he reiterated, "And they're going to collect a reward. How is this desperate?"_

_She shrugged, "Waste not, want not? That work for you? Besides, after this we'll need to lay low. It might be a while before we get a good job."_

* * *

Simon stayed hunched over her, the gloves of professional distance long off his hands, and watched her. He smoothed out the chestnut hair around her face, waiting for her to wake up. Waiting to see those cheerful expressions that let out pure sunshine when she smiled at him. She had always made him smile. But now...She looked so frail, small a woman as she was, that every bruise on her body was worse, every bandage stood out. It might be a while, but he wouldn't be gone when she finally woke up. When she finally smiled again. He would be right here. Holding her hand, helping her get through this. As a doctor, he'd done everything he could. As her man, he was helpless.

"Simon."

He ignored Adalyn. It wouldn't make much difference if she wanted to kill him for the punch he'd delivered earlier. Even she had her limits. She wouldn't kill him on the ship, or with Kaylee like she was.

"Simon." There was a little more urgency in her voice. The infirmary door was pushed softly aside and she walked in, "You need to come with me."

"I'm not leaving her."

Adalyn's slick hand — slick with what? — clamped over his mouth and she hauled him out of the infirmary, away from Kaylee. He tried to grab at her arms, at her hands, like she'd taught him to do before, but it wasn't working. She was dragging him, yanking him away from Kaylee. His muffled protest was cut off when she finally shoved him into a spare room, forcing him to all fours with the strength of the thrust and closing him and her inside the room together.

And when he finally looked up from the floor, he saw a man in chains, tied down, gagged and beaten, but still maliciously glaring straight in his face. Simon stood spastically, finding Jayne behind him when he backpedaled straight into the bigger man's chest. He spun, looked at the two of them.

They were beaten up. Adalyn's hands had been coated with blood and he cringed to think of it smearing his face now. Her lip was split wider, her exposed arms full of grazes. Jayne had a black eye, likely some fractured ribs from the way he was leaning. But they were standing over him, waiting silently.

"What is this?"

Adalyn slapped her Dolly into his hand and he noticed it had a full magazine and a silencer, heavy with weight, "You said you wanted to kill the man who hurt her. Thought you deserved the chance to."

Simon looked at the man. He recognized him. Through the blood and beaten face, he recognized him. Jayne walked out, leaving him there with the bound man who'd ordered the beating of his sweet Kaylee.

Adalyn stayed a moment longer, sounding sad when she finally spoke, "Either way, you come get me when it's done. I'll get rid of him how you want."

He couldn't nod, couldn't say 'yes' or 'thank you', but just stared dumbfounded at her when she finally walked out, closing the sliding door behind her. He shifted his grip on the gun. He'd never held it before. Never thought she'd hand it over so willingly and leave the rest to him.

His reflected movement in the tattered mirror caught his attention. Blood smeared over his face from the wounds of others, a gun in his hands. Unkempt for the distress of finding Kaylee hunched against the rover. His shaggy hair was oily. His shirt was crumpled and stained from carrying Kaylee to safety. She'd only wanted to go shopping. So innocent. She'd woken up for one brief moment, smiled at him in delirious pain, before retreating to vertigo.

He looked at the kneeling man awaiting execution.

* * *

_Kaylee wanted something pretty. Not something new or costly, but just something pretty. Engine bit or some new tool. Something she could lay hands on and feel. Mind intent on finding that pretty thing, she hopped into the infirmary and circled her arms around Simon's waist. He smiled when she wrapped her arms up under his arms to lay flat on his chest._

_"What'cha doin?"_

_"Stock. We need medicine."_

_"Wanna go shoppin? Get some?"_

_"I can't. Captain asked me to categorize the shipment we received. He thinks it'll do some good when we talk to Hamza's dealers."_

_"Don'think you could get away for a little while?"_

_He faced her. That was a no before he ever said the words. She nodded. Only meant she might not have to explain the tool she had a shiny picture of in her head. Didn't know what it was, only knew it would call to her when she saw it._

_River walked in with some flyers about the time Simon declined. Beaming, she took a stride closer to the reader, "What 'bout you? Wanna come?"_

_"Can't. Algorithmic traveling patterns must be turned in early in case of complications during the negotiation."_

_"Escape plan, huh?" Kaylee kept her smile on._

_"I just said that," River said flatly, going back to her navflyers._

_With the Tams unable to join the hunt for the tool she now knew, beyond shadow of a doubt, she needed and wanted, she headed up to the kitchen. Adalyn would be cooking breakfast. Or at least something she could make of protein mush._

_Jayne was sitting with a gun splayed out in pieces, cloth in hand to tidy them up before the negotiation. She hadn't been told everything, but it was big enough to warrant the early assembling of troops._

_"Jayne? Feel like headin to town?"_

_"Gotta polish Vera."_

_"Adalyn?"_

_"No. Have fun."_

_She hadn't really thought the assassin would wanna come, and Jayne did love Vera something fierce. That left really only Mal and Zoe since Inara was doing her all-too-legitimate job. And Zoe she was sure wouldn't be hankering to head to market. The first mate never really left the ship anymore anyhow. But all she wanted was that tool that remained nameless._

_"Hey Cap'n," she climbed up the bridge stairs._

_"Hey, lil' Kaylee. Ship runnin fine?"_

_"She's clean. Was hopin to get into market. Think there's a tool out there callin for me. Just feel it in the bones. Plus Serenity needs some new toys. Think it's shiny if I go by myself?"_

_His nose was deep into some report or another, Zoe across from him with other charts Kaylee had no real knowledge of._

_"Rather you not be alone."_

_"Please, Cap'n? Finally got some coin. Been waitin to spend it on a new tool."_

_"Fine. Knock yourself out."_

_She pecked him on the cheek before running back down the corridor she'd come through. Alone or not, she was at least gonna find that piece she was itching to lay claim to._

* * *

Mal slammed Adalyn against the wall, hands grabbing her collar. She let him do it, no fight. She was too tired, too complete, to fight back. Blood everywhere. It wouldn't matter now anyway, whatever occurred up here. Mal wouldn't be able to stop whatever happened downstairs. Too much blood for one girl to lose. Simon would make his choice and she at least had the satisfaction of knowing she'd given it to him. She spared a look at Jayne. The crack of ribs being hit with metal.

Mal jolted her attention back onto his face and his jaw worked, "What part of 'we lay low' didn't you get?"

"The part where you said 'we'."

He slammed her against the bulkhead again and she took it willingly, knowing she was still in control. Chains and ropes.

"You think this will solve anythin? Goin to some joint looking for that bastard? Gettin beat on for nothin? Hamza'll be runnin now. No chance of findin him."

"Maybe. Or maybe he's just cocky enough to sit and wait."

"You give me one good reason why I don't space the two of you and get along with the laying low," his voice flattened.

Far from losing control, she twisted out of his grip and slammed him face first into the bulkhead where she'd been. She pinned him there for a moment, "You need us. Besides, what happened to Kaylee is more your fault than anyone's."

She let him go and he rubbed the sore socket of his shoulder. Grazes stung, burned, where the bullet would just numb. Wounded pride and all, he threw a punch and she felt it land. She reeled a bit, not expecting it as much as she should have. Some assassin. She waited for the hit on Jayne's part, for him to retaliate, but it didn't come. She found herself thankful. When bullets didn't numb, they stopped motions. Mal sneered at her man, begging for the challenge because he was hurting enough to do something stupid. Namely, starting a fight with a man a few inches taller and broader than he was.

"You gonna defend her?"

"My girl don't need defendin."

Mal scoffed and looked at Adalyn. She straightened, watching him. Her lip, for the third time today, was split and bloody. Blood everywhere. Mal saw it, too. And she saw regret in his eyes. Blue softness in an angled face of deeds regretted.

"Told you not to go makin trouble," there was less anger in his voice now.

"I know. But it's Kaylee."

Mal's heart sank and she could see it go down. There was nothing worse than one woman being hurt so bad on account of one job gone wrong. Kaylee didn't deserve to take a fall for something she had no real part of. Hell, Adalyn would've taken her place on that bed in a heartbeat if it meant the mechanic being free of it. Chains and bullets. But it was out of her hands now. She'd done her part and now it was up to Simon. And as long as Mal didn't know about the man trussed-up downstairs, he wouldn't be able to stop anything from happening to him.

* * *

Kaylee opened her eyes despite the nagging sensation in her brain telling her not to. Moment she did, she was glad of it. Simon's head was down, braced against the edge of the bed and smothering his face in jet-black hair. His hand around hers. She remembered falling asleep that way. His hand around hers. And he'd never left her side. She smiled.

Her body was sore, but she was safe on _Serenity_. And her man had taken care of her. She squeezed his hand a little, enough to wake him up. He looked up, foggy, before he looked at her. He had some circles under his eyes and his usually ivory complexion was sallow. He saw her awake and she saw a tear in the corner of his eye.

"Hey."

"Hey. Welcome back."

"How long was I out?"

"A few hours."

"Am I gonna make it, Doc?"

He nodded with a tired smile, "You'll make it."

"Everybody safe? No one else got hurt?"

"Yeah. Everyone's fine. Just worried about you."

She nodded contently, her own body tired and exhausted and betraying her, "No need t'be worryin. You took care of me. Took care of everythin."

He stayed quiet and only watched her. She could see him swallow back tears and desperately wanted to ask why but he leaned over her, kissed her gently. Stroked her hair from her face.

"You rest, _bao bei_. You're safe now. No one's going to hurt you again."

She accepted it, grateful for him. Grateful that he always knew just what to say to make her feel safe, to make her feel at home. She let herself drift off, watching him from behind heavy lids. He stayed with her, held her hand, whispered sweet things.

* * *

In the grand scheme of things, Hamza wouldn't be missed. Adalyn stared at the writhing body. Blood pooled at the side of him. The wound hadn't been centered. When bullets didn't numb, they stopped motions. This brand had done neither. That had been her idea. Jacketed hollow point. She looked at the Dolly in her hand. Looked at it the way she looked at a mark. Sized it up. The two bullets missing changed the weight noticeably.

"Be glad it wasn't the other way around," she whispered.

She untied him, readying to haul him off _Serenity_. He was light enough. She holstered the Dolly and readied to lift him over her shoulder.

When bullets didn't numb, they stopped motions. She stopped. It burned. Grazes burned. She recoiled with a hand to the side of her gut. When her instinct told her to kick, her sight told her it didn't matter.

Hamza fell back, dead with her gun in his hand. Last ditch effort that was nothing more than a nuisance. Trained evaluation and ebbing annoyance said it was nothing more than that. She grabbed the gun and holstered it again. Guns are merely an extension of the weapon who holds them. The dead weight made the graze burn hotter. Silent with burden, she carried the body off _Serenity_ with every intention of shooting him for the beauty of it when she got him sprawled in desert sand.

* * *

Simon looked at his hands, free from blood, and felt more tears run down his face when Kaylee finally drifted back into peaceful sleep. He collapsed onto the stool. A cold hand rested on his shoulder and he bowed his head. He didn't want her to see him cry. He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder and he found the strength to look Adalyn in the eyes. But she wasn't looking at him. She was watching Kaylee. There was new blood on her face. Her shirt, already mussed from the fight earlier, now had a thick stain. He supposed it was from carrying the body away, out of sight of _Serenity_. It was a desert they'd landed in. The man might be found eventually, but not by anyone vengeful and not before he was a meal for carrion birds. She'd done that for him. For Kaylee, but for him, too.

"Thank you," he said, seeing her conflicted solemnity that was so often hidden beneath cold features.

"He won't be found. I made sure of it."

He bowed his head again and his back heaved with a new sob that he hated himself for letting her see.

"I won't tell her, Doc."

"I killed him," he whispered, confessing, a tight hand wrapping around his throat.

"I know. And that's not for her to get."

With his tear-blurred eyes to the deck flooring, he saw blood drips. He looked level, saw their source at her stomach, and looked higher to Adalyn's stone face and worried eyes cast on Kaylee.

"You're hurt."

"It'll heal with time," she squeezed his shoulder again before turning, leaving him there when she gently closed the door for him. He watched her leave before looking back at Kaylee.

* * *

Mal found some small satisfaction when Adalyn jumped. Nothing sustainable, considering what he'd overheard, but enough to make him give a smile in some form that wasn't quite genuine. He had hoped to get a word with the Doc about Kaylee, but he'd heard enough to know that she would be fine and that there was a more important issue to be dealt with in the present. She didn't start explaining herself, only waited and stood straighter.

He sighed, "So he was just sitting there? Cocky and waitin?"

She nodded, "Laughed when Jayne and I stormed the door. Stopped laughing when I shot him in the leg."

"And Simon?"

"The boy deserved the choice. He made it."

"Man's taken care of then?"

"It was slow. It's what he deserved."

"Can't say I appreciate what been done. Goin behind my back an' all? Torture and killin on my boat."

"You weren't ready to do it."

She started to walk away. He almost let her. Almost. Turned to face her back, "And Simon? Was he ready?"

She paused, "I pray not."

Mal stared at her. Adalyn stared right back. It was something to see humanity in a person trained to kill. More something to see regret. Or, 'least, the closest he'd ever seen her come to regret. She looked tired. They all did, really. Her tiredness was just the one what ran deeper than physical or mental. He nodded and she just walked away.

* * *

Simon watched Kaylee sleep, wondering to himself when things got complicated how he was supposed to deal with it. Things had gotten complicated before, but never like this. This was something he'd never thought he'd have to deal with. Let alone something he was ashamed to deal with. Kaylee didn't know. She'd smiled when she'd woken up to see him. If she knew...

Would she look at him differently? He knew he would her, if only slightly, had she pulled the trigger. He'd rather not know at all. He'd rather believe the lie than know his sweet and innocent Kaylee killed a man. He'd wonder if it would happen again. If she would become jaded and not care. Would that be what became of him?

He looked at his own hands and saw blood. There was none, of course, but he saw it. He saw it and thought she would, too.

He stood up. He wouldn't be able to sleep, no matter how much he tried to forget the eyes of the man he'd killed. They would stare at him. If he closed his eyes, they became more real and he would regret ever doing so. He tightened his sleep pants and climbed up the stairs to the galley. He looked around the ship's forewalk before noticing that Mal was on the bridge. He debated going up there, talking and asking questions. Mal wouldn't care that he couldn't sleep. He wouldn't care that Hamza's face was haunting him.

He turned to the range and put on the teapot. He wanted something to warm him up. He felt cold inside. Like it would never end.

"It won't help, you know."

Simon looked up to see Mal standing in the doorway. He was still fully dressed and Simon quickly tightened the drawstring on his pants.

"What won't help?"

"The tea. Don't make things easier."

He shrugged, "I couldn't sleep."

"Not surprised. First kill's never easy."

"Does it get easier to deal with?"

"Hope not."

Simon stared at him, wondering if he ever felt a man watching him long after the body had cooled. The captain took lives in self-defense. In defense of his crew. Did that make it easier?

"Truth be told, if you were sound 'sleep I'd be more worried," Mal said, reaching for a paring knife and a bit of sugar rice cake left from breakfast. He quartered it, popping a section into his mouth.

"All this time Adalyn's been teaching me to use a gun. I finally put it to use and she didn't get to see."

"Might be best that way. Killin ain't glorious. Her and Jayne look on it different. See it as somethin...easy."

"It isn't easy for you?"

"Didn't say that. But, killin's part of the life. Part of the job. Shoot when there's no other way. Ain't like my gun's the first thing I try."

"Zoe said that. When I first came on. She said you wouldn't kill unless you had no other option."

"Good you listened to her," he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

Simon hesitated, "Did I murder him?"

"No. No doubt 'bout that in my mind."

"Then why do I...why does it keep me awake?"

Mal shrugged, "Couldn't say. Everyone's different. Know what my first was like."

"Did you sleep? After?"

"Like a rock."

"That's not overly reassuring."

"Not meant to be. Just truth. Folk come from different lives bound to have different reactions. May be you need t'ask Addy. Reckon she was in your boat once."

"The Academy _trained_ her to kill," Simon stared at the captain blankly.

"Don't mean she wanted to. Still raised like you, more like'n not. She might know where you're coming from."

"I don't know what I would say to her."

"Figured as much. Just a thought."

"Thanks. I guess."

"Like I said. Everyone's different. Take to killing different ways."

Mal started to walk off. Simon took a step in his direction, "Captain."

He stopped and looked at him, waiting.

"Who was your first kill?"

Mal's eyes looked haunted, but his face stayed calm and stoic, "My pa."

* * *

_Simon had come running only because River screamed. It had made him jump. And about the time he got to the common, Adalyn was there, too. She was swaddling the girl and Simon pushed her aside, taking his sister in his arms._

_"River! River, what's wrong?"_

_"It hurts! Hurts! Hurts bad!"_

_"Where does it hurt, mei mei?" he asked, restraining her while she flailed and clawed._

_"Everywhere! Please! Don't let them hurt her!"_

_"River, calm down," he raised his voice a bit, "I can't help you if you don't calm down."_

_There was an audience by the time Adalyn had read hidden lines that Simon had still yet to decipher, "Doc, where's Kaylee?"_

_The impact hit him. He looked at River. She was crying, sobbing. He looked back to Adalyn and Mal. The captain was on the same line as Adalyn was and Simon caught up. Adalyn knelt by River._

_"I've got her. Go."_

_Simon stayed. Hesitated. He'd never had to leave one to go to the other. Adalyn cradled River a moment. She glared at him when he wasn't moving. Why wasn't he moving?_

_"Doc! Go!"_

_He sprinted. Full-on ran. Mal was there next to him. Ran because he knew that his sister wasn't in pain._

_They found her slumped against the mule. The package was torn apart. Her face was smudged with dirt and smeared with blood. There were rips in her overalls. Blood pooled in the sand._

_"Kaylee!"_

_He skidded to his knees. He forgot training and picked her up onto his lap. She didn't respond when he gently rustled her. He tried to wake her up. He wanted to see those eyes._

_"Kaylee! Bao bei, wake up."_

_"We gotta get her back on the ship."_

_"Kaylee..."_

_"Doc!"_

_He looked up at Mal._

_"Gotta get her back to the ship."_

_Internal injuries: don't move her too much. He carried her bride-style and her package fell to the ground when her limp hand didn't keep a hold of it. He walked. Couldn't run. It would cause more injuries._

_She smiled at him._

* * *

Jayne loved his bunk. Mostly 'cause it lit Adalyn like it lit Vera. Made her shine and cast all those pretty shadows over her body. Her breaths weren't no lighter in-and-out than his, but she seemed calmer now than earlier. She made that little 'hmm' sound that told him she was happy. All he would get from her, but it was enough. He watched her for a moment 'fore he got back to his original thinking. Fine, his original thinking had been several hours before the entertainment of Adalyn being in his bunk took over, but he still wanted to know.

"So?"

She looked at him, "What?"

"So, who killed Hamza?"

She rolled her eyes at him and turned away, "Drop it."

He spooned up behind her and smiled when he got to touch a lock of hair, "Aww, come on. Gotta tell me."

She shoved away from him and got out the bed, moving to scattered clothes they'd thrown about earlier, "Does it matter? He's dead."

She got cold. He hated it when she did. Got all cold and distant and it made him wish she didn't take everything nearly so personal as she did, "Didn't mean nothin by it."

"Just forget it. Not worth talking about."

She yanked on those cargo pants that he liked but he frowned anyway, "Ain't like I think less of you whatever road you walked. Doc on the other hand..."

She was pulling down her tank when she spun to face him, "Jayne. Drop it."

The edge in her voice got him. He stared at her. She was staring right back. Sure as hell wasn't gonna be him what turned away first. Felt silk beneath his fingers and stroked her abandoned cami.

"The boy made his call. You don't need to round up ghosts for him. He'll get enough on his own," she said softly.

"Since when d'you defend him?"

She looked down, "I'm not. I'm defending Kaylee."

"How's that?"

She was rummaging for undergarments, turning this way and that while she spoke, "You think she wants to know what happened? Either way, she won't look at the boy the same way again and it's bad enough I know but you can bet River knows, too. The less mouthy this gets, the better off she is. She doesn't need to know what the Doc chose."

"And the Cap?"

"It's best if he doesn't know, either."

"You didn't tell'm?"

"No."

She was fidgety with the clasp on her bra and finally got it done, slipping arms back through cotton to cover herself again. Much as he liked her nekkid, he liked her dressed, too. Teased him when he knew what was under it all.

"Where you off to?"

"It's your shift on the bridge. I'm getting some sleep."

He looked around, "Could sleep here, you know."

"I'll see you for breakfast."

He watched her hit the release for the ladder and it swung down with the door. She climbed out and left him there. Look at the clock on the side table told him she was right. He just hated her being right so much. Made his life damn-well confusing.

* * *

_The whiskey wasn't working. Bullets caused complications. Wasn't ever supposed to get complicated with regard to the girl. Adalyn never would've wished that on anyone._

_Well, maybe the boy._

_She touched a drop of whiskey to her lip and hissed when it stung. Her busted lip was still draining blood. In the fury of concern about the mechanic, she'd been careless. The boy'd gotten his hit in. It was what he needed. At least that was what she would claim had she done it._

_The whiskey didn't feel good going down her throat, either. Too thick. Too impure. She wanted sake. The kind she'd grown up on. She wasn't getting it._

_Someone walked in. She caught sight of the boots and poured another glass. It still didn't do the job right when she shot it back._

_"What's the plan?" she asked softly._

_Zoe sat across from her, "Captain says we stay low. Hamza won't go far."_

_"I should've gone with her."_

_"We all should've."_

_"You all had a job. Me? I just didn't feel like shopping. If I'd gone…"_

_"No knowing what might've happened. And speculation don't do much good now."_

_She poured another shot and offered the cup to the first mate. She refused it and Adalyn was more than grateful to drink it._

_"She'll be fine," Zoe said._

_"I know. I just…she was beaten. Because of the men we killed. Hamza came after her. Had no right. Should've come after me or Jayne."_

_"We knew the risks."_

_"Getting Kaylee beaten wasn't one of them."_

_"No. It wasn't."_

_The first mate left her there with golden solace. Except that solace wasn't working. She looked around the kitchen and found that none of Jayne's guns, the likes of which had been abandoned on the table the moment River screamed, were around to be seen. She stood from the seat and left the whiskey there. She knew what he would be thinking about._

* * *

Adalyn distinctly remembered closing that door. When she'd come back in from getting rid of Hamza, she'd closed the door until she could find time to strip the carpet. But the door had been slid open and she could see blood. Not to mention the hole where the bullet had gone through the door after grazing her side. Bullets cause complications. She walked closer and peered in, not half-surprised to see River sitting on the stained floor. She sighed and pushed the door farther to the side, stepped over the track before standing over the younger woman.

"River?"

"Bullets cause complications."

Adalyn rolled her eyes, "Only for some. Ship that bad? You have to dig into me to keep all the others out?"

"You only think of chances lost. Not hate. Everyone else hates. He didn't want to die..."

"No one ever wants to die," Adalyn crossed her hands over her chest and leaned against the doorframe.

"He can't sleep now. Troubled."

"And you?"

"Just waiting. Lives get tossed aside with bullets. They stop motion. Life is motion. Every biological organism is motion in motion."

"Your brother did what he thought was right. That's all any of us can do, River."

"You don't think he chose right. He had the gun. You made the wound."

Adalyn watched her. For someone half-psychic, River still didn't get a lot of things. At least not in regards to how Adalyn lived and breathed. And most definitely not in regards to why she'd done what she'd done and said what she'd said. Amazing that so much time in each other's heads could still render an incomplete person in the flesh. She supposed that was where River's three years in hell was a lot different than her nine. River still had life. Adalyn had just become numb.

River finally looked up from the carpeting and directly at Adalyn, "Not numb. Motionless. The wound hurt."

"Be that as it may, they'll all sleep better. Wounds heal better than grazes, _xiao mei mei_. Go on. Get to sleep. If your brother sees you in here it'll turn bad."

River stood easily. They stood face to face for a moment. River reached out and gently touched Adalyn's scabbed lip, "Turns make more turns. No straight lines."

She walked away.

Adalyn nodded, "Yeah. Tell me about it."

She retreated back to her small square bunk, some solitude in a mass of din, and looked at the sparse belongings. Adalyn found her gaze on the rifle sitting there on the desk. At least what passed for a desk. The rifle gleamed. It sang to her. Bullets caused complications. In reality, there was almost no problem a bullet wouldn't fix. It sang its siren-song and it wasn't until she shoved it away that she realized her hand was shaking.

She lifted her tank and broke the weave on her grazed abs. It bled a little, but nothing that would cause issue with a good wipe down. She stood and walked towards the showers behind the infirmary. Water drowned life. The Doc was still sitting on that stool, holding Kaylee's hand. Not asleep. But then she didn't expect he would be. She walked on. She tore off clothes and hit the button for the shower. No use waiting for warmth. It wouldn't get any warmer than the ice it was now.

Wounds would heal. Grazes left scars.

The rest of the clothes were shucked in a pile and she stepped into the cold reality of water. Her wounds were washed clear. She rested her forehead on the tiles. The water ran down her back. More ran down from her eyes.

"Adalyn?"

She lifted her head off the tiles when Simon called her name. She wanted to ignore him. The boy never did get when to leave her alone.

"What?"

"Who was your first kill?"

She stared at him even though she couldn't see him. A shadow beyond the curtain, but she could imagine it was easier for him to not look her in the eyes when he asked that. She contemplated staying quiet. Bullets cause complications.

"I can't remember."


	10. A Lost Sister

Mal wasn't exactly sure what had happened. The meal had been pleasant enough save for Adalyn's early retirement, but it had quickly deteriorated after that. He couldn't place one thing that had set this off, and now he wished he'd paid more attention to the full time of the meal. For his part, the food had been damn near the best plate Adalyn had served out to him and his.

But now the food was being left to cool while everyone tried to get near River; she was currently stooped in the corner with a knife tucked in close to her chest.

Simon was closest to her, hunched down with his hands out and trying to get the knife away from her. She'd just walked from the table and picked up the knife, huddling down in the corner and mumbling. Now, everyone was trying to stay away and be close should anything more extreme happen.

"River, give me the knife," Simon asked gently, inching forward.

She only continued to mumble. Mal told himself that the reason they were all standing there, confused, was because this was the first time in a long while that she'd acted up. Miranda's secret had been released and even though she weren't a-hundred percent, she wasn't crazy as she used to be. They'd gotten used to her being coherent.

This wasn't coherent.

The new set of boots in the kitchen belonged to Adalyn. He turned 'round to look at her. Her face was worried before she ever saw the sight before her.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly.

Mal shrugged, looking back to River, "Not rightly sure."

Simon was still inching closer. Adalyn pushed forward a little, standing behind him and next to Kaylee, "Simon, back away."

Simon glared at her over his shoulder, "What?"

"Just…just back away. Something's not right."

He stared incredulously, "Really?" he quipped. He looked back to River and went in closer, "River…give me the knife, _mei mei_."

Mal couldn't've kept track of the knife even if it had been him in Simon's shoes. It blurred across the Doc's chest, hitting the bicep of his arm afterwards. Blood poured from the deep gouge and he yelped, falling back onto his hunches.

"Simon!" Kaylee grabbed at him, pulling him back while he winced and hissed in pain.

River went back to her mumbling and kept the knife against herself again, staining her dress with her brother's blood. Kaylee pressed her hands against the wound.

"Get him to the infirmary," Mal said, hovering over the two of them.

"I'm not leaving."

"Go. I'll take care of it," Adalyn got on her knees closer to River than Simon had been.

"No. Not going."

"River, _xiao mei mei_, look at me. Look at me," she cooed. River's frantic eyes turned to her with her white-knuckle grip still on the knife handle. It took a moment, but she lashed out at Adalyn, too. Only Adalyn was quicker. She grabbed the knife by the blade and held it inches from herself. Blood trickled from her palm but she stayed unflinching.

"Come on, whatever it was, you can beat it. Look at me."

River's eyes softened ever so slightly, "Can't."

"Yes. You can."

River's eyes clouded over and she shook her head, obviously fighting to come back from whatever was making her act up.

"River."

It was the tone of voice Mal had come to recognize as dangerous. The one that got your attention no matter what you were doing. Adalyn had never used it on River before. But it worked. River's eyes focused on her again and became calmer. Her brow furrowed and the grip on the knife handle relaxed until she let go of it completely. Adalyn tossed it aside and away; some blood splattered on the floor with the motion. River started to cry and leaned into Adalyn.

Taking her in her arms, Adalyn held her tightly, letting the smaller girl rack with sobs. She looked over her shoulder at Mal. Grateful as he was, Mal couldn't help but wonder if the angry and incredulous stare coming from the bleeding doctor was because of his wound or because Adalyn was holding his sister.

"We'll be in my bunk," Adalyn said softly, lifting her from the floor like a weightless doll. With one arm behind her back and the other under her kneecaps, she carried River away from the group.

"Come on. Let's get this looked at," Mal said, helping Simon to his feet.

The Doc was still glaring at the path Adalyn had taken with his sister.

* * *

The last bit of the weave wasn't holding as well as Mal liked. But, then again, doctors always made the worst patients. They'd spent twenty minutes trying to keep the two wounds closed, and the weave wasn't doing the best job.

"Still think stitches'd work better. Zoe could do it."

Simon glared at him, "No. This is fine."

Mal nodded, "Any idea what set her off?"

"None."

"Why didn't you back off like Adalyn told you?"

"She's _my_ sister," he quipped.

"Know that. Seems though that she known better'n you what to expect. Ever think that maybe you should'a listened?"

Simon ignored him, only kept fiddling with the weave they'd put on. Kaylee turned on the water and washed the blood off her hands. Mal stood for a moment longer, not sure if he was welcome company right now. Not that he much cared, but he didn't enjoy the idea of being between Adalyn and Simon when they finally met.

"I'll be on the bridge, anything comes up."

Kaylee nodded with a tired smile and dried her hands. Mal left them both there, watching Simon's angry glare turn towards Adalyn's silent bunk. He wanted to check but seeing how hard Simon was taking it made him think twice. Coming between the Doc and his sister wasn't on his list of things to do for the day.

* * *

Adalyn's hand was stinging, but she ignored it the best she could. A scrap tank that she used for working out sufficed for now. She sat vigilant over River as the smaller girl stayed curled up and worked through whatever it was that had bothered her. She had yet to say anything, and Adalyn wasn't sure if that was good or bad. Her own mind was still bothering her and whatever she'd encountered in the market was probably the same thing that had turned River's mind for a spin.

"Adalyn?"

"Yeah?"

"Did I hurt Simon?"

"Only a little. He'll be fine."

"And you?"

"I'll be fine, too."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean…it was too much."

"I know, _mei mei. _I know. Don't worry about it."

"Your head's hurting, too."

"A little. I think we both got a taste of the same thing. Do you remember anything at the market? Anything that hurt?"

"It was like dark. Like night. Angry and violent with stars crashing down. There was chaos and blood and it was so dark…" she trailed off with a whimpering cry.

Adalyn put her hand on her shoulder, "Shh. It's not dark anymore. No crashing. No chaos."

"But there's blood."

"You just worry about yourself. You do what you have to, okay? Don't worry about me or Simon."

Her eyes were softer, swollen from crying, "I don't want to hurt you."

Keeping her hand on River's shoulder, Adalyn gave a little squeeze, "I'll be fine. Besides, it's what I'm here for."

The inundation was immediate. Her own mind was invaded by the thoughts of the psychic and she slammed her eyes shut to brace herself. It was dark and she had no doubt that what she'd brushed against in the marketplace was what River had encountered full throttle. While the psychic took refuge in the quiet of her mind, Adalyn sat there, opening her eyes when the worst had passed.

* * *

He hated to think of River without him. Of what might be wrong while he was stuck in the infirmary tending to the wound she'd given him. It wasn't that he didn't trust Adalyn to watch over her, he just didn't like the fact that it wasn't him that did it.

"You sure you don't need stitches?"

He'd forgotten Kaylee was still there in his rambling thoughts, "Not really. Tomorrow will tell."

"You okay?"

He sighed, "Yeah."

"You seem…angry."

He held the bandage over the wound. It hadn't stopped bleeding entirely, even with the weave. The one on his left bicep wasn't as deep, at least. Although he wasn't sure which would be more deserving of attention come morning.

"I'm not angry. I just don't know why she went off."

"When Adalyn comes out, you could ask. She might know."

"That assassin should not be babysitting my sister."

Kaylee stared at him.

He sighed, the harshness of his words hitting him, "I didn't mean—"

"She's just trying to help."

"She shouldn't have to. I'm River's brother. I'm her doctor."

"River don't need a babysitter. She's old enough to get by. You don't have to watch over her all the time. I mean, ain't you happy that someone else can help her, you're not 'round?"

"Yes."

"Then, what's the problem?" she asked meekly.

"I don't understand that woman. Adalyn. She's not exactly an open book and she seems to know my sister better than I do. The things she and River pull off—I'm not even sure what kind of mental capacity the two of them have together and I don't know how Adalyn knows half the things she does."

"You ever think of asking?"

"She tends to hit me when I ask questions."

"Maybe you ain't asking 'em right. I mean, she don't like doctors. You ever ask as a brother?"

"She's not my sister."

"But River is. It's like she's got two older kin. You and Adalyn. Maybe Adalyn's just trying to protect her same as you. And she ain't hit you in a while. Maybe she won't if you ask nice this time," she smiled warmly.

"She does and I'll make you kiss it better."

Her smile widened and she beamed, "I can do that," she kissed him gently.

Her kiss blinded him like it always managed to and he found himself smiling back at her. He loved it when she kissed him. It was always when he needed it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sat beside him, still shining like the sun she was.

"You sure you ain't just jealous?"

"Jealous? Of Adalyn?"

" 'Cause she knows what's going on in River's brain when you don't?"

"I just wish she would tell me, is all. I'm not jealous."

"Good. Then I don't have to put her in her place."

He smiled, "I guess not."

He winced when she accidentally nudged up against his chest wound. She winced with him and sighed.

"You sure you'll be all right?"

"I'll be fine. I know you're anxious to get under that engine. What'd you buy?"

She smiled again, "New auxiliary thrust jack."

"I'll pretend I know what that is. Want me to join you? Engine maintenance 101?"

She slid off the medical chair, "Nah. You rest up. Besides, you need to talk to Adalyn. Don't think she'll come 'round the engine room."

He nodded, "Okay. I'll ask nice this time."

"Don't get hit."

"I'll try."

She bounded off like a kid heading to the candy vendor and he smiled to see her so happy. Always so happy. He didn't know how he'd survived life's trials before they were together. He could never be mad or upset for long with her around.

He wanted to talk to Adalyn, but he wanted to clear his head first. He didn't know how not to be a doctor. He'd never thought that his profession would put him so much at odds with a person. He couldn't blame her, of course, he just didn't know what a question would sound like if he was just Simon. Sounding like a doctor wasn't something he tried to do.

He made his way up to the kitchen in hopes of finding some hot water left over for tea. He saw Adalyn sitting at the table. He'd never seen her pass by the infirmary while he was in it getting mended. But that was how she worked. Always hard to see until it was too late.

Not knowing her very well, he knew at least that she was on edge. Holding her spoon like a mixing rod, she was digging into a protein-fruit concoction she called oatmeal. She'd managed to make it taste less like protein and more like a thick, stick-to-your-ribs snack food. He'd had it once or twice and wondered how she managed it; making something so disgusting as protein mush into a decent meal. But her being on edge was the more important issue: her holding her spoon the way she was reminded him of the manners she still had from the life she'd left behind. It was on rare occasions she forgot them at the table.

"Hi."

She didn't look up at him, "Hey."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'll live."

"You'll need stitches on those wounds. Weave won't hold overnight."

She'd never looked up and he smiled in spite of it, "Some day you'll have to tell me how you know so much about medicine."

She remained quiet. Had he already breached into the doctor-styled questions and not realized it? He cleared his throat and walked to the teakettle. It was still hot to the touch and he poured himself the water and dropped in a teabag.

"Some tea?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thanks."

He poured out the extra mug and moved to the table, sitting hers at her side. He sat across from her and inhaled the refreshing and soothing bitterness that was green tea.

"How's River?"

"Asleep."

"Thank you. For helping her."

Her mouthful of oatmeal kept her from saying anything but she paused ever so slightly. She swallowed it down and dug in again. She was still holding the spoon like a beater.

"Are you okay? You left dinner early. I thought maybe you had a headache."

"Of sorts. I think whatever I bumped into in the market, River did, too. She just got a stronger dose."

"What sort of thing did you bump into?"

She raised her eyes without raising her head, "Don't know. It could've been something from the Academy. Or it could've been a bastard that just committed a crime."

"You two can feel those things?"

"Her more than me."

"How does that work?"

She plunked her spoon loudly into the half-empty bowl and looked directly at him, "Okay, what do you want? Want me to draw little diagrams for you? Show you where our synapses overlap? Show you where the scars are?"

He wasn't sure if her voice was dripping with sarcasm or helpful hints, "That'd be great, actually. I'm just trying to help her get better."

She stood and took the bowl up in one hand, "She'll never be better, Simon. You prodding and poking won't change that. The sooner you leave it alone, the better chance she has at living a normal life," she turned away to put her bowl on the counter.

"And you? Will you get better?"

She froze where she was. He braced himself in his chair. She turned to face him slowly, "You saying something there?"

"It's a question. All I'm trying to do is understand how you know so much about her brain. About your own brain. I'm grateful that someone does. I just want to know so I can help her live a normal life. Or do you not want that for her?"

She stared at him for a moment, blank and stony.

"Help me understand how you two work together. How you know so much. That's all I'm asking. She's my little sister. I just want her to be okay."

Her face softened a bit, "My brain wasn't made only for killing. She uses it. Like a filter. If there's too much information she can't handle, she uses my brain to sort it out. I'm no reader, so not nearly as much gets through. It helps her stay lucid."

"It doesn't hurt you? Doesn't give you headaches?"

"A bit. But nothing I can't deal with."

"And how do you know…if she's having trouble dealing? Like earlier?"

She shrugged, "Can't explain it. Just know."

"Then she's lucky. That someone knows."

"You act like you're useless to her."

He tried not to smile depreciatively, "Aren't I?"

"Not as much as you'd think."

"Thank you."

She shrugged before: "Can you stitch yourself up?"

"No."

She nodded. She pushed away from the counter to walk over and lean down. She pulled aside the torn shirt and winced. He noticed her own hand still only had a strip of a shirt wrapped around her wound.

"I can stitch it up if you'd like."

He almost smiled, "Are you offering to help me?"

"I should get River to do it. She's your damn sister."

"Not only mine."

She rolled her eyes and stood straight, moving for the back corridor stairs, "Come on."

He followed her, "You know, I would be grateful to hear more about what you know…about your capabilities and hers."

She looked over her shoulder at him, "I can still hit you."

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, "No doubt."

She waited outside the infirmary while he gathered up the supplies. He didn't bother asking if she would come in to do the job. He'd seen her do field work and he had no doubt that she could pull off the stitches in the common room lighting.

He sat on the couch with his medical bag full of the goods and she reached in to start the task.

"You will have to tell me how you know so much about medicine."

She glared at him from under long lashes before yanking away the gauze and tape over the wound. He flinched but held the gaze.

"When you want to."

She reached closer with the threaded needle. He pulled back a bit, "Local anesthetic?"

She ignored him and he winced, grateful at least that she wasn't tugging too hard on the edges of his skin. He watched her stitch him up until craning his neck hurt and he was certain she was doing it right. The pain became a dull throb without the use of the anesthetic. He smiled inwardly to think that maybe if he hadn't asked the last questions, it wouldn't be hurting at all. But she continued on with the job and it was done quick. At least, as quick as he could hope considering that it wasn't him doing it. She tied off the last stitch and put fresh gauze back over the line. She took a quick look at the wound on his arm and decided it wasn't worth wasting the thread.

"Do you want me to get your hand?" he asked.

"No." She unwrapped her hand while she spoke, "You're all set. Good to go tinker in that engine with your girl."

He watched her for a moment, suppressing a smile when he stood to leave, "You heard everything in the infirmary?"

She only looked at him before taking out a weave for her hand; it was still bleeding a bit. He nodded at her non-answer and walked up the stairs, content that the moment River woke up, he would know.


	11. A Lost Trust

Sometimes when she was in his nightmares, she wasn't the one who died. Sometimes it was him. He died and was left to wallow in the grave his bed became in the morning. That wasn't the part that made it a nightmare. He didn't just die. She killed him.

In some way, some form, she killed him. The first time, he'd woken up begging for mercy to the silence of his bunk, and he felt guilty. Adalyn wouldn't kill him. But she almost had. That's what had made the nightmares start. She'd been triggered and she'd nearly killed him. And he was sure these were worse than his other nightmares. Worse than those dreams that made him not look her in the eye in the morning; her or Inara or Zoe—he hated the dreams that involved them. One time it had been a free-for-all. He remembered avoiding them for a good part of the day because of that nighttime romp through his subconscious. Erotic dreams were one thing. Other nightmares, those where he was left alone and responsible for the death of a beloved friend, were another thing. But the nightmare where Adalyn killed him was worse than anything.

It scared him that first night he'd woken up, sweating and gasping for breath. He hadn't been able to get back to sleep after that. He remembered feeling sick to his stomach; he felt guilty about dreaming such a horrible thing, and also a bit terrified because the nightmare hadn't been out-of-line. It had been truthful and real. It could happen.

But that first valid, point-making nightmare was the minority. Others where she killed him were more inventive, sometimes a terrible mix of eroticism and death. Sometimes he woke up and felt as if she'd been there all night in his bunk, playing mind games with him. He wondered how much she knew. How much she understood it when he jumped at her touch or shied away from her. He would react to the vision the nightmare gave him, and then he would feel blameworthy about it.

Tonight was one of the nights were he was bound by his ingenious side. The side of his subconscious with the more unlikely what-ifs and scenarios of such. If the end result hadn't been his death, he might have enjoyed the nightmare.

The funny thing about a nightmare, or a dream, is that everything that happens within it is perfectly understandable so long as you're asleep. Wake up, and that existential knowledge that makes the dream understandable, livable and workable within the confines of the mind, is gone.

But the stifled yelp and sudden explosion from his bed told him that the reality had carried over to his waking moments. He stayed crouched, ready for action as the hollow in his chest echoed from the nightmare. She'd made him die slowly not a moment ago, and he'd thought he'd never be able to wake up from it. His ragged breath slowed as he searched the confines of his bunk. He was still alone.

He steadied himself, rubbing his hands over his sweat-drenched forehead and through his damp hair. It had gotten too hot. He felt drops of sweat trail down his back, making him feel more spent than he liked. He stood from the bed, walking to his small wash bin. He pulled it from the wall, running cool water over his hands and splashing some up to his face.

He couldn't go back to sleep. The pain of the dream was still too close. Going back to bed would only make it come back. He clambered up his ladder, walking into the kitchen. He thought he would be alone, this hour of the night. Zoe had bridge duty and he knew she wouldn't come to talk. But besides her, everyone else was asleep. He ran his hand over his stomach, rummaging through the cool bin to see if any of Adalyn's leftovers were still there.

He looked up to the side to see her there, staring at blank nothingness. He jumped, letting the cool bin close hastily. But she didn't acknowledge him. He watched her sit there on the small coffee table, her legs folded crosswise. Her hands were on her thighs and her back was straight. In front of her, objects from around the kitchen floating in a stagnant circle. She remained unblinking, her mind handling the floating objects in front of her. He said her name once. She ignored him. He eyed her for a bit longer. She hadn't blinked. He watched the objects float; a spoon and a piece of fruit she'd managed to save from dinner, a plate and a ten pound box from the storage room. They looked lighter than air under her talent.

He shivered. He hadn't bothered to throw a shirt on, but he knew the cool air in the kitchen wasn't what made him cold. Seeing her so casually using that mind of hers made his gut go frigid. When she'd been triggered, it was like being choked. He couldn't feel the hands on his neck, but they were there nonetheless. She'd leered at him, her mind not under her control. And he'd almost paid the price. She'd cast him across the cargo bay and tried to strangle him. His neck hadn't felt fine for a few days after that. And it wasn't like being held down; no, it was something internal. Her mind compressed his lungs, made them unable to move. He'd been gaping like a fish out of water. The black nothing of vertigo had started to take him under when River came to the rescue.

It had only lasted a moment, but it was a moment too long. The damage had been done and he couldn't act as though he weren't wary of her. Even after everything they'd shared the simple fact was that she was made to be an assassin. He'd known it, read it, and it had never sunk in until she almost killed him.

He walked over to her and still she was motionless. He waved a hand in front of her open eyes, hoping that would be enough. But she was still lost in task, not registering him. He said her name again, a bit louder this time. Still nothing.

He put a hand on her shoulder.

She gasped, yelped, and the objects she'd been floating fell to the deck with a thud, clack and squish. The box nipped his toe. He cursed under his breath and tried not to react. Adalyn was worse off. Her heart had been scared from her chest, that much he saw. She had her hand over it, gasping for air and staring at him.

"_Tyen shiao duh_, Mal. What are you trying to do?" her breath was still unsteady and her hand was pressed firmly over her heart.

He paused, "You didn't answer me."

"Well, yeah, that's the whole point," she exhaled sharply, standing and looking at the fallen objects. He started to pick them up. Her breathing finally slowed, "What are you doing up?"

He didn't look her in the eye, "Couldn't sleep."

He put the things back on the coffee table, beside her. She shook out a leg and winced when the knee popped back into place.

"Why not?"

He shrugged, "Nothing much."

She moved past him and went to the cool bin. She reached in and took out some rice cake. He hadn't seen it before. He smiled to think she might have hidden some for herself.

"What were you doing?"

She licked her finger, "Meditating."

"Didn't figure you for the type."

She glanced at him before cutting the slice in half. She handed half over to him. He took it and followed her to the dinner table.

"Keeps the brain strong."

"You actually do that?"

"Yeah. Now that my brain isn't being played with, helps to keep it in shape."

"You ever think of doing that were some folk like me won't startle you half t'death?"

"Thought had crossed my mind."

She chomped onto the cold rice cake. He watched her before taking a bite of his own. He didn't know who was worse off for the intrusion. He hated seeing her flustered, or anything but what she wanted to be seen as. But he'd gotten rice cake out of it.

She was silent, like she usually was when she ate. He wondered how much food had been a commodity at the Academy. Had she been starved there? The way she never left food behind made him think it was more likely than not. So primal a need, food. And it wasn't like she couldn't cook. Hell, him and his had never eaten so good on this ship as when she came aboard.

Her brothers couldn't cook. The memory came up too quick to stop it. He remembered when Jo came into ranks and burned a ration. How he managed to burn it, Mal had no idea. But burn it he did and Mark grumbled about sharing his. Adalyn was like them in many ways, but her culinary skills were far superior than theirs had been.

She'd tried to kill him.

The nightmare flashed behind his eyes and he winced. He should've known he couldn't look at her this soon. Seeing her made the pain his mind experienced come back.

She watched him. He was only faintly aware of her attention, "You okay?"

He nodded. She didn't push for more. He hoped she would dismiss it as a glimpse of pain from an old wound, not a cut so fresh and insinuating. When he was awake, he knew she wouldn't hurt him. Not Adalyn. Maybe the assassin would try, but Adalyn would win out. But the dream took that false security away. Stripped it all away. She wasn't either/or in his dreams. She was both a friend and an assassin. No part of her existed without the other. In his waking hours, he always managed to separate her into one or the other. But nighttime was another matter.

"You sure you're okay?" her gentle voice made him look her in the eye.

He found himself suddenly guilty, feeling ashamed for ever doubting her. Those eyes were the windows to what she was. He couldn't fear her when she looked at him like that. These eyes were calm and sympathetic, not at all like the green fire she'd leered at him with when she strangled him. This was Adalyn. Not the assassin. Not the government's weapon.

She waited patiently for his reply as he surveyed her. She'd never rush him. Not on such a loaded question. She knew where his lines were drawn and somehow she managed to always inch past them, past the idea of him as captain. She could get away asking him that question.

"I'll be fine."

She nodded. He didn't care if she believed him. But her furrowed face smoothed out at his reply. She looked into him; she did that sometimes when she didn't think he was paying attention. It was like she was trying her damnedest to become a reader. Like if she pushed her brain just a little farther, she could tell what was really going on inside his head. But he didn't mind. She was intuitive enough to guess right more times than not.

"Who died?"

He did mind, however, when she somehow managed to guess right at the wrong time, "Huh?"

"In the nightmare. Who died?"

He couldn't play dumb. They both knew it wouldn't work. He looked down at the rice cake, "Rather not."

"I'm sorry."

She wasn't apologizing for asking. He knew that. She was apologizing because she knew enough to warrant it. It was her trying to comfort him. Trying to give him some semblance of normalcy. She was considerate like that. He'd been confused the first few times these meetings happened, because she would usually apologize before leaving him. But then he just got it. Got that she was trying to help him help himself.

She suffered nightmares, too; River told him that much. She was left to watch those she loved die and leave her again. Her brothers, her parents, maybe him and his crew. Her war was different than his. He'd been fighting the Alliance from the outside; she'd been swallowed up in it, left to claw her way out.

He wasn't sure if she had yet.


	12. Being Lost Together

He couldn't do it. Couldn't be with her without being with her. The alley had been intense and amazing and nothing short of mind-blowing, but dinner had been lax at best. No warmth there. No acknowledgement of him or even what they were doing together. Jayne didn't expect her to be all warm and fuzzy all the time, but he wanted some small token that he wasn't just a useful body. The excitement over two jobs gone right in one day had drowned out even Simon's anger at Adalyn and the food she'd eventually gotten at the market was delicious. Sheriff Bourne had given them their reward and offered them safe harbor the next time they needed it, and that was enough to get even Mal smiling. Which they all were by the time Adalyn pulled out the real treat for the night: four bottles of sake. Sake from Boros, which was the best could be bought. So, all in all, it had been one of those days where most things went right.

He just wished she'd take him serious. He was polishing Vera when his ladder door opened and she started down. He stayed seated, expecting this would be when she put an end to it. She'd gotten her fill and this would be it.

"Hey," she tried to smile.

"Hey. Good dinner."

"Thanks."

"Shut the hatch so no one walks by can hear us."

She did so and then looked at him, "You want to keep doing this?"

"Only if you ain't got a problem with it."

She kept staring at him, "I have a little one."

He sighed. There it was. No more. Gone, like it was just nothing. He stood and walked over to her, "Can't say I ain't gonna miss it."

He reached out to touch her and she evidently wasn't expecting it 'cause she yanked away and threw him off balance, like it had been some sort of fight. He wrapped one arm around her waist and brought her down with him and it was hard to concentrate because they were rolling around, wrestling like this was a real fight but he knew it wasn't. One of them would get the upper hand, realize it, then give it up 'cause they didn't much know what to do with it.

But Jayne finally found himself on the bottom and she had him pinned. She was leaning over him, hands on his wrists, and her breaths were deep, fast. Jayne smiled, not mad at all at what was happening.

"What're you gonna do?"

"Don't know," she admitted.

He smiled, " 'Cause it looked like you was 'bout to kiss me."

"Wasn't."

"Wouldn't'a minded."

He bench-pressed her off and found himself on top, his hands holding her wrists down and her heaving chest pressing against his lower arms each time she inhaled. He forgot not to kiss on the mouth and did just that and it wasn't so much a kiss as a forceful penetration. Her tongue met his and she was sucking air outta him just before he started taking it back. Adalyn let it be rough. Let it be messy and she was gulping him down like water.

Jayne pulled away and found himself gasping, same as her. He looked at her and for the first time in weeks, he saw her take him seriously. He stayed close, still pinning her, "You okay with this?"

She surveyed him with her eyes. Such beautiful green eyes. Like pretty stones he'd heard stories about. Her face softened a little, tilted a little, and he saw her smile.

"Guess I am."

"Then would you mind finishing me off? I ain't gonna last much longer."

She grinned and brought one arm 'cross her chest so he was forced to his back. She was on top again and he could see the pulse on her neck raging. She kissed him this time and it was everything that, if he wasn't already up, would've got him going.

But this time was different. She didn't just unbutton his fly and finish it. She ran her hands under his tight shirt, tracing muscles and kissing bare skin before she ever even started to unbutton him. She kissed a trail from his belly to his groin. Licked and nipped and kissed to the point he was about to beg if she didn't finish soon. Worked up as he was from rolling around, once she finally did suck him off he didn't last long. He kept from making a sound, biting his lips mostly 'cause he knew there were likely to be others in their bunks. Next time would have to be in hers since no one 'cept her slept that end of the ship anymore.

She was overlapping him, teasing him, and he smiled. He ran fingers down her face, soft skin.

"You know I came down here to end it," she said softly.

"I know."

"Guess it didn't work like I thought."

"Guess not. Your turn?"

She smiled and they kissed again. She gasped against his mouth when he first put his hands over her curves. Like it had been the first time. He smiled.

"Not gonna be the same no more."

He rolled her shirt off her before she leaned back down, "Pretty much completely different."

Undressing wasn't something they'd set out to do before. No need for it since before it had just hindered the sex part. Now, he took his time. Rolling her to her back, feeling bare expanses of skin he'd never seen but for glimpses. Touching and kissing every square inch of her before ever working her over. She latched to his ear and he bit back a moan. Not fair that she'd found that sensitive spot. Not fair that when he went into her, she bit down on his shoulder so hard he almost couldn't keep from coming. Missionary hadn't been something she'd gone for before this, and he wondered why and also knew it wasn't his place to ask. She would tell him when she wanted and knowing that she might wanna was just enough to make him bite her back.

He had learned she liked to start gentle. But that didn't mean he had to stay that way. He was glad now they weren't on the bed. Springs would'a been creaking too loud to keep it secret. She had to brace her palm on the nightstand cabinet to keep from hitting her head. One arm over her head, bracing, and the other wrapping around under his arm and onto his back, keeping their bodies locked tight. He felt her shudder and slammed in harder and she let go of the cabinet to grab him tight around his back. She bit his other shoulder and he could feel her fall the same time he did. With her head propped against the nightstand cabinet doors, she finally looked at him with clear eyes. She smiled and he couldn't help but kiss her.

Pretty much completely different. First time he'd been inside her when he finished, first time she'd let him. First time he felt terrified that she had succumbed to him so completely. He realized, when she giggled at the way his beard felt against her face, that it was the first time they'd made love, too.

* * *

It wasn't much past three in the morning to the ship's clock and Mal hated the notion that something had gone wrong up on the bridge. He'd heard a little ruckus, then a little more, and the third time he'd decided to go up and see just what the hell Jayne was doing during his shift. He rubbed his eyes and yanked on a shirt over his bare top half, not really feeling like getting dressed completely. More likely than not, it was just Jayne having a fit over not being allowed to kill the hwoon dahn they'd been fighting earlier. He kept his sensitive and tired eyes on the floor while he walked, rubbing them with the heel of his palm to freshen up the blood flow. He climbed the bridge stairs.

"Jayne, what is all the—" he looked up.

Adalyn was securely planted over Jayne's lap with her blouse open and her back to him.

Mal fell down the stairs and tumbled to the foredeck hall. He landed on his back and cursed, looking up at the ceiling and wondering what exactly he'd just seen and then deciding very quickly that he didn't want to know.

Soft hands helped him up from the floor and he found himself looking into Adalyn's bemused and exasperated face. Her blouse was still half opened and her pants weren't completely closed up, but no part of her was showing that Mal would've blushed to see. He held the back of his head and she steadied him. He looked up to see Jayne standing in the doorway of the bridge looking back down at him.

"Je shr shuh muh lan dong shi?!"

Adalyn smiled at him and pat him on the shoulder, "Did you really think he'd be satisfied without a kill?"

He glared at her. How long? How long had she been letting Jayne—no, he didn't want to continue that thought because the moment he did he'd get angry except he was already angry and not thinking anything wasn't making it easier.

"I think you both got some explaining to do."

Adalyn smiled softly, "Jayne and I are sleeping together," she said conversationally.

He scoffed, "Well, ain't that just a thing!"

She almost winced, "Captain, why don't you go back to bed. I'll do the same and Jayne will go to the bridge. We can talk tomorrow if you're still angry about this."

"If? You thinking if I'm still angry, you'll talk about this?"

"Mal…please," she said, borderline begging and threatening all in one voice.

He stared at her. She looked unnerved. Looked like she might not be calm if he raised his voice again. With his hands on his hips, he glared up at Jayne. The man was just looking to Adalyn. If that big brute could keep his trap shut, Mal supposed he could, too. He returned his look to Adalyn and sighed.

"I think we'll be having a long conversation tomorrow."

She nodded, walking away without looking once back at Jayne. Mal watched her go and when he turned to look back at his mercenary, the man was already in the pilot's seat, watching the bridge controls. Mal stood there for a moment, fuming, before kicking down the ladder to his bunk.

* * *

Just one little glare tossed his way that would give him an excuse to tear into someone, that was all he was looking for. Much as he liked the idea of being able to do just that, he found himself grateful that everything seemed to go smooth over firstmeal. Adalyn had made her usual delicacies, Jayne had wolfed everything down, and there was nothing other than that Mal could pinpoint to explore. Hell, if he hadn't seen what he'd seen last night, he wouldn't know a thing.

Breakfast cleared out and Mal stayed behind, sipping at strong coffee. Adalyn had offered to do the few dishes that had accumulated and was nonchalantly doing that duty. He watched her for a moment. No indication that she would say anything. No guilty lack-of-eye-contact and no haughty smile. She was just…Adalyn.

"Care to tell me why I didn't know about this?"

She never broke stride with the dishes, "Because I honestly didn't think it was any of your business."

"How long have you been bedding him?" he wanted to see her mad because then he wouldn't feel like he was the only sane person in the room at the moment. He didn't care what she said now because no matter what it would give him—

"Almost two months."

He stared at her. His grip on his coffee cup tightened, "How long have you been coupled?"

She paused, thought about it, "About three weeks."

"And you didn't see fit to tell me."

"Nope."

"Can't say I like this."

"That's not really my problem. It's yours."

"He's using you."

"If he is, I'll be the one to deal with it. But I don't think he is."

"I want it to end."

"It's not going to. Leastways not because you want it to."

"All the man cares about is his guns!"

She shrugged, "That doesn't set him terribly far apart from me, does it?"

"You're not—that's not what you live for. You're a person. He's just…he's just Jayne! Man has no value on women. Goes to get trim every time we make landfall!"

"Mostly because we didn't want you to hear when we have sex."

He stared at her. She was unflappable. Still calmly washing the last dish in the pile. Still angering him because dammit he was supposed to have the high ground.

"He's not good enough for you!"

She looked at him, "Who will be, Mal?"

His open-jaw, about-to-make-an-angry-remark face closed up and he watched her. They just looked at each other for a moment. She'd done it. Shown him why he was really having a problem. It wasn't because it was Jayne. It was because it wasn't him. No, he would never admit that, but that's what he found it boiled down to. She knew because she was who she was. He'd stepped right into it and now no matter what he said, she'd won.

But she didn't look like she'd won. She didn't look outwardly victorious. She looked tired. Strained. Like no matter what he said, she'd feel like she'd lost.

He looked down at his coffee cup and beyond the bottom. Winning or losing, he was about to concede and they both knew it. He had to. He could never admit that he wanted and wished to have her. And he could never say who would be better for her. She'd won, and they'd both lost because of it.

"Things get heated, don't care to have it disrupting my crew," he said softly.

"I would promise except promises don't mean much to you anyway, do they?"

"Just keep it simple."

"Simple as it can be."

He stood and put his coffee cup in the draining sink, the liquid floating it for a moment before it finally hit bottom when the water got too low. He stayed next to her, wishing he could be happy for her and wishing she knew it.

"Adalyn…I just don't get it."

"I didn't either. But then I did and I'm happy about it."

He found his throat tightened up and he could only nod for a moment, "Good. Good that you're happy."

"I'm sorry you had to find out like that. We just didn't want anyone to know. Especially you."

He almost took insult but knew that she'd been right to hide it from him. He looked down and away, his palms braced against the counter and his head dropped. His voice was quieter than he thought it could be.

"Does he know?"

She shook her head and he sighed.

"Addy, he needs to know."

She glared at him, "No. No. You don't get to ruin this, Mal. I am happy with him. Do you need to hear me say it again? I. Am happy. With him. Why do you want to destroy this?"

"Not that…not…If it were the other way around, I'd want to know. Because it meant you trusted me enough to tell me."

He won that argument and he still didn't feel victorious. Felt like she was about to argue back. But her face told him just what she had accepted. She looked away, much in the same pose as he was.

"Maybe."

He nodded, "No maybes, Addy. You need t'tell him much as he needs to know."

She glared at him, "Would that make you feel like a real man? Bragging about how you got me first?"

Struck. Hit in the gut with a bullet and no where close to recovering. He could only watch her walk away, his breath gone from his lungs. She moved to the back stairs, leaving him there and he wondered if he'd ever forgive himself for what he'd done.

* * *

Kaylee found herself smiling. Smiling half because Jayne was blushing and half because Simon was, too. And the fact that she couldn't help but smile made her smile even more. At least Adalyn had found herself someone to be with. And that was something worth smiling over.

At the sound of boots, they all looked up to see Adalyn coming down the stairs by the infirmary. She paused and whatever mood she'd been in changed when she saw them all in the common. Kaylee beamed at her.

"Hey, you."

"Hey. I miss something?" she asked.

"No. Nothing partic'lar."

Adalyn almost smiled. It was a tired smile, but it was almost there, "I take it everyone knows."

"Yeah. We all kinda heard the Cap'n shouting last night."

"Everything okay?" Jayne asked her.

She nodded, "Yeah. He gave me a stern talking-to."

"Aww, I think it's sweet. Now we just gotta wait for River to find some sweetie and we'll be cute pairs."

"No. My sister is…No," Simon said gently.

"Don't worry, Doc. River can fend for herself. Besides, not like she's not legal," Adalyn said with a wry grin.

Simon glared at her and she just walked to her room. Jayne watched her and Kaylee smiled to see him excuse himself and go after her. She wrapped her arm 'round Simons elbow and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"Don't y'think they're cute?"

He shook his head at it, "No."

She stared at him. He walked away and she was too flabbergasted for a moment to follow. But follow she did and she found him waiting in the engine room for her. It was something she'd learned 'bout him. If he wanted to talk, really wanted to talk and wasn't sure if he wanted anyone but her to hear, he'd go to the engine room. He was bracing himself against the workbench she'd set up and she sat in her little hammock.

"You don't think they're cute?" she asked, innocent.

"He's using her."

Her brow furrowed, "Adalyn ain't 'bout to let herself be used. You know that."

He faced her, crossing his arms around his chest, "Why do you think they're cute?"

"The way she stood up to the Cap'n just last night. Way he went after her when she gone off to her room. It's cute. I think they fit so good together."

"Kaylee…it hasn't just started. You know that, right?"

"Yeah. I'm not an idiot, you know."

"I know that. I just…I found out. Right at the beginning. It was when she killed Oktan. That was when this started. Doesn't that seem wrong to you?"

She thought about it. She was a little hurt he hadn't said anything then she thought about what Adalyn might've done if he had and she shrugged, "Maybe she was upset."

"And maybe Jayne was taking advantage of her. Maybe he still is."

"Might've started out that way but it obviously ain't like that now. She'd kick him ten ways to Titan if she thought for a moment he wasn't being true about this. Why's it got you so worked up, anyhow?"

He sighed. She waited. She'd learned never to push when he was so worked up about something. He'd just shut down for a while if she did. He looked at her.

"I love you."

She almost blushed. Wasn't often he said it and that was mostly 'cause it didn't need repeating. She knew, deep down, that he loved her and every time he said it made her go weak in the knees to know that he'd come so far from when he first came aboard Serenity.

"Love you, too."

He smiled in defeat, "You think they've ever said that to each other?"

She shrugged, "Not all things work the same. Like engines, you know? They all got different moving parts…but they all do the same job. Don't matter if one's got two injectors and another's got eight. Still flies."

His smile became genuine, "So what engine are we?"

She stood from her hammock and leaned into him, happy to feel him wrap his arms around her waist, "We…we are a Turnebolt."

"A Turnebolt?"

"Yup. Takes a lot'a little pieces to get it going. Long time to put together. But once you get it working, it'll fly real petty."

He nodded, "I like it."

They kissed, and she smiled at him when they pulled apart, "Knew you would."


	13. Lost Control

**A/N: Timeline kinda self-explanatory: after the tryst, just in case. This one has some River/Adalyn Academy syncs and training that kicks in. Enjoy.**

* * *

Mal stood there, arms crossed over his chest. He had to ignore Simon's pleading look as he decided for himself how to move forward. There was no easy answer for this. They couldn't do what this psycho wanted. Couldn't not do it. So, they would have to fight. He raised his glance a little, knowing they all deserved to hear the truth about what was happening.

"As you all know by now, Kaylee an' Inara got taken. Far as we can tell, they're being held at a skystation. Man holding them is an old enemy. He will kill them. But he doesn't want to. He wants us. Likely us, the ship, and everything on it."

"So we go in there and get them," Simon spoke up.

"Ain't that simple," Zoe added.

"The skystation is big. Bigger'n anything we've tried to move on. Bigger'n Niska's old skyplex. Twenty some odd stories. Likely that our girls are trussed up on the cap of it. Ain't no easy way to get from the lobby to the cap without getting us or them killed."

"I can do it," Adalyn spoke up.

They all stared at her.

"River and I can do it."

"You're not taking Ri—"

"Shut up, Doc. Captain, we can do this. And we can do it without weapons, too."

"I ain't putting you or little one at risk."

"You don't have much choice. She and I can do it without ever setting off alarms or raising suspicion."

"No."

"Mal, you don't have a lot of options here. Right now, we're the best chance you've got. You say you trust me. I need you to prove it."

Mal's jaw worked. He hated this idea. Hated putting more of his crew in danger. And he knew Simon would raise a royal fuss if he let this happen. But Adalyn stared at him. She was confident. And, much as he hated to admit it, him and Zoe would have a hard time getting to the cap without firing.

He leaned onto the table, his fists curled up and bracing him.

"How?"

"Captain! You can't be serious!" Simon yelled at him.

"Ain't seeing too many options right now, Doctor."

Adalyn straightened, "We were trained to do this scenario. 'Bout time we used it against some _go-se_ Alliance installation. River can go in first, alone. Give her twenty minutes and she'll have the layout of the place. I go in and use that to get to the top."

Mal straightened, "That don't sound too solid."

"It'll work. Every skystation has an airlock at the cap for emergencies. Use that to get Kaylee and Inara out. _Serenity_ can drop her and I off, go up, get them, and come back down, docking to pick us back up. Hell, if there's a big fuss, River can board the boat before I ever start doing my job."

"What makes you think you can just walk into that security area?"

"River can glean security codes for me. Any trouble, I'll drop them."

Mal sighed, "River? You ain't said a thing."

River looked between Adalyn and Simon, then to the captain, "I can do this."

"Then we do it."

"No. River…"

"Simon, I looked after her for three years. I'll keep her safe. She won't ever have to leave the lobby. I can promise you that."

Simon exhaled angrily, knowing she was right and hating it. Jayne stepped away from the kitchen counter.

"I don't like you going through that station alone."

"Nor I. I'll come with," Mal crossed his arms over his chest.

"Could be dangerous if I get into wetworks."

"Best it be me then."

Adalyn looked to River, "You ready to use that pretty mind of yours?"

"Always."

* * *

Mal watched Adalyn. She was just sitting there on the stairs. Her face was blank, her mind doing the active work right now. He hated the look in those eyes when she was listening to River. Hated the idea of it. River feeding her everything, giving her what Adalyn needed to do her job. Her eyes almost looked clouded, her pupils nothing more than pinpoints, almost nonexistent. River had gone in almost half hour ago, and Simon hadn't stopped pacing the cargo bay floor. Mal kept his attention on Adalyn.

"Adalyn? How's everything coming along?"

She blinked once and stood, coming down the few stairs between her and the deck. She kept her gaze on the floor. He walked up to her.

"Adalyn?"

"Shh."

He jerked back in surprise. She'd hissed at him, or near enough to it. He watched her a moment longer. She was still staring at the deck.

She looked up to him, "Okay. We're good."

He looked to Zoe, "You have the ship."

"Give us a half hour before you pull up top," Adalyn added.

Zoe nodded. Adalyn started for the cargo bay door. Mal kept pace with her. They walked out, seeing the bustling lobby. There were screens everywhere. Security screens, puppet theater screens…and River was sitting at the bar, ignoring them like she was supposed to.

"Okay, stairs it is."

The two of them turned left, over to the stairs that would get them one level closer to Kaylee and Inara. Mal watched River leave the bar, moving back to the dock where _Serenity_ was parked. Simon would be grateful that she came back on. Mal followed Adalyn.

"How many floors up?"

"Eighteen. But we only have to go four by stair. On the fourth, there's an elevator what'll take us up to the security deck below the cap. From there, should get interesting."

"You got security codes?"

"I do. Have faith."

* * *

They walked along the grid corridors of the skystation. Mal found himself reaching for a gun wasn't there. But Adalyn was cool, calm. And, eyeing the view. They were, of course, on the level where whores were served. No one looked twice as she led him by the hand through the winding halls of propositioning women and grapple rooms.

"You forgot to mention this floor."

She smiled, "Why, embarrassed?"

"I just…some warning would'a been nice."

"At least we blend in."

She paused, hearing what he heard. The patrol was coming around. Adalyn found a bit of wall space and stood there, one foot against it so her knee was out. She made a wide-eyed gesture for him to come in closer, play the part, and he shook his head. Her stare shot him and he still wouldn't put himself in that position.

She moved him. He felt her mind tug on him just as the Alliance patrol came around the corner. Her lips were locked against his and his hands were unwillingly caressing her. Wide-eyed and trying to resist her movements of him, he couldn't help himself when his eyes closed. The kiss brought back that memory that he'd worked so hard to put aside. They continued to kiss and caress as the patrol walked by. He wasn't sure if her mind was still working his limbs for him and he moved closer to her. Her chest was flush against his and her knee was between his legs. Her hands moved along his back under his jacket, her nails digging in through the shirt. One of his hands glided up her bent leg, his thumb dangerously close to her sensitive center. The patrol was still behind them, walking and ignoring the sensual activity of the hall. His other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her face, her kiss, deeper. Was this him? Was he doing this or was Adalyn guiding him? Thick, cloying exhales over sensitive skin. Where did her control end and his begin? He didn't care when he felt her exhale deep, her breath washing over his cheek and ear. He leaned in, nuzzling her neck. She met his mouth again, eager and pleasing lips pressing against his. In perfect control of both him and herself, she continued to kiss him vigorously, lustfully, until the patrol turned the corner out of sight.

She let him go and he stayed there for a moment, staring at her eyes. He wasn't under her control, but he was still frozen. They were only inches apart, the warmth of their breath cascading together and brushing their skin. She tried to smile.

"Mal? You okay?"

He fought down his arousal, "Yeah."

She swallowed, glanced down, feeling why he wasn't moving and trying to ignore it, "Sorry."

He nodded, trying to ignore it, too, "Yeah."

She pulled her knee down and he stood there for a moment longer, getting a firm control of the only thing she hadn't laid her mind into. He sighed, knowing they had a schedule and knowing he had signed up for this.

"Mal?"

"Yeah?"

"You can let go now."

He hadn't realized he was still holding her. He took his hands away spasmodically, finally feeling control over his arousal. He stood there for a moment, glaring at her.

She shirked away, leading him towards the end of the corridor. He continued to glare at her back, "You didn't have to be so damn convincing."

She rolled her eyes, "You wanna be arrested?"

"Don't feel like being teased."

"Oh please, isn't my fault you got up so easy."

"Easy? What—you was working something fierce on that."

"My mind never touched that and you know it. You're just reminiscing 'bout good ole times. Only 'cause you've had it you reacted to it."

"Not looking to reminisce anymore. I ain't given that stint a second thought! And don't you ever do that mind controly thing to me again."

"We hadn't been making out, we'd been a sore sight. Besides, this way you can claim it was all me and you never laid your hands on me wasn't what I made you."

He hated to admit her point, but she had it. He harrumphed and followed her as she turned another corner. She paused, continued on. He hated those pauses. Meant something was going on he didn't know about. Meant River was still alerting Adalyn to everything Mal couldn't know about.

They found the door. She smiled, walking up to it, "This is it. Elevator. This car should bring us up to the security wing."

"You sure?"

She nodded, "River is."

"You two are really starting to creep me out."

She glared back at him over her shoulder, "Wimp."

She started to fiddle with the controls to the door. She pressed three buttons on the keypad and waited. The pad glowed green for a second before the doors hissed open. She and Mal stepped in. They both faced the doors, waiting for them to close. Adalyn pressed the button that would get them up to right underneath the security cap. She pulled her hand back, just standing there. They both faced the doors, not looking at each other. Adalyn sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you ain't."

"Yes, I am. I didn't mean to tease."

"I'd take it as a kindness if you never, ever, pulled that trick again."

She harrumphed, "No groping. Got it."

He rolled his eyes, "Don't make me out as the bad guy here. I ain't the one who got all mind-move-y."

"Yeah, you were the one what got all uppity."

"Like you didn't like it!"

She finally faced him, "I hate it. Okay? Happy? I hate it! Hate having to do that to you. Hate that we made one, stupid, drunken mistake and now we have to pay for it. Everyday! Hate that I did what I did. We had this amazing, one-night stand and we can never have that again! Never. You're too hung up on Inara and I'm too rutting punch drunk for Jayne. I know I put up that whole 'non-puritanical' smoke-screen, but seriously!"

She glared at him for a moment, him staring back blankly. She sighed, turned back to face the doors, and rubbed her forehead with her hand. The other she just crossed over her chest. Mal watched her. The urge to kiss her came up so quick that it startled even him. But he didn't. It wouldn't be right, or good, for either of them.

"Adalyn…"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I do."

She exhaled sharply, not saying anything.

"I'm sorry, okay? I thought…I thought things were fine. You and Jayne…he can't get enough of you."

She let her other arm drop to cover her chest, too, "I don't think he'll ever really forgive me, though."

Mal took that one in stride, "Why?"

"Because you're not dead."

The elevator clicked. Adalyn straightened. Mal nodded, cutting off his next bit of protest.

"Showtime."

The doors opened. None of the officers noticed them. They were just walking through the crowd. There were some civilians. Most were bound. A few were questionable. So, for a moment, Mal relaxed. He hated the idea of walking in unarmed, but he knew it was better. Adalyn was right. They'd raise fewer alarms if they were harmless. All in all, there were only ten or so uniforms, most of them doing desk duty. Mal could see the other elevator, the one that would take them to the cap. There were close. Adalyn radiated confidence, those who walked by moved away, giving her the space they thought she deserved. Was she doing something? Something to make them all compliant?

The guard that stepped in front of her, not ten feet away from the last elevator, made Mal question his thought.

"I need you two to wait in the reception area."

"Oh? 'Cause we were told to go up there."

"Sorry. No one goes up unless they're escorted."

Adalyn smiled. Mal watched her body bend, become a less dominant, less intimidating line. Her smile was suggestive, her eyes hooded with seduction.

"You wanna be my escort?"

"I'm sorry, ma'am. But we can't let anyone up there who doesn't have an escort."

"You really should be my escort. I work…well, I work in the rooms and one very nice officer sent me up here to find you," her voice was wet with lust, so reminiscent of how Mal had heard it once before. That airy and smooth water that she spoke.

The young uniform seemed to sway, "Really?"

She nodded, "He said you'd be the one to stop me. Said you took your job all too seriously. That I should release some of that tension for you."

"Who was this?"

"Commander Donovan. Slender fellow with some gray in his hair."

Mal kept his mouth shut as Adalyn kept swooning. Did she know this or was it just a play? Had River given her all this information? And, even if this uniform let Adalyn through, how could he make it? He watched, trying not to fidget. Trying not to blush as Adalyn worked her charm.

The young man smiled and led them both to the last elevator. He would have to compliment her at some point after they got out of here alive. The elevator doors closed and Mal jumped when Adalyn threw her elbow into the throat of the man. He gasped for breath. She grabbed onto his shoulders, pushing him down and bringing her knee up. The body slumped to the floor at Mal's feet.

"Well, that was fun."

Adalyn smiled.

The doors opened and her and Mal looked to see four guns pointed at them.

* * *

Kaylee looked up, hearing the screams outside the door. She froze, Inara coming up behind her. They'd been locked in this room for hours, or had it been days? But whatever was happening outside, she didn't want to know of it. The screaming was vicious, wailing. There were thuds and the screaming died down. The door started to creak. It was thick, a fire door. But it tore away like paper from its hinges.

Kaylee held her hands up to keep the dust from her eyes. When it settled, Kaylee looked to see Adalyn. She was staring bleary eyed at the gaping hole where the door had been. Mal rushed past her.

"You two okay?"

Inara nodded, "Fine now."

"Then time to go," Adalyn said, moving to the other side of the adjoining room. Mal lead them out and past the bodies of the guards. They were just lying there, eyes open. There was no blood, no wounds. They'd just been killed by Adalyn's skilled mind. Adalyn opened a door across the way, looking in before pulling out two suits.

"Only two," she looked to Mal.

He nodded, "Okay. _Serenity_'s waiting above this airlock. You two get to the ship."

"What about you?" Inara looked to him.

"Adalyn and me are gonna go out the way we came in. Once _Serenity_ picks you up, she'll dock and get us at the front door."

"Can you get back out?"

"Got a secret weapon," Mal almost smiled, looking at Adalyn.

"I'll get us out, safe as ships. Now come on. Not looking to linger."

Inara, Kaylee and Adalyn all stared at him. He waited, unsure of why.

"What?"

"Turn around, Mal."

He suddenly realized they needed to change into the space suits, Inara having a dress on and Kaylee's jumper too thick to sit under the suit. He did and he heard the rustling of clothes as they were taken off, plopped on the floor. He kept his back to them, knowing he couldn't try to be comfortable. It took a few moments, but he heard the clicks of air suits.

"Okay."

He turned around. Inara and Kaylee looked at him through sun-shielded headpieces. They walked over to the airlock, Kaylee and Inara fitting in easily. Adalyn looked in once, through the top viewport, to see _Serenity_ hovering there above them. She nodded to Mal. She pulled her head out and he closed the door. His eyes caught Inara's through the viewing glass. He smiled. Hearing the door lock close, he pressed the button. He watched them start to float. Kaylee was the first to jump up, leaving the airlock through the other side. Inara watched him for a moment longer before following. Mal saw her drift out of sight before he looked back to Adalyn. She was looking at some unknown point, her eyes bleary.

"Adalyn?"

"Shh."

She remained fixated on whatever she was looking at, her eyes the only indication of what was going on. Mal waited, knowing she was trying to do something.

"They're on."

"You know that for sure?"

"River's watching."

Mal shook his head, "Creepifying."

Adalyn rolled her eyes and started for the elevator. She yanked the one body out of it, him moaning as consciousness started to come back. Adalyn cocked an eyebrow and gave one good stomp to his temple. Mal winced. Whatever sense he'd gotten back, that man just lost again. His head rolled limply. Adalyn followed him into the elevator. She held the doors open for a moment, reaching in between them and the frame.

"What are you doing?"

"Disabling the lift."

"What?"

"So it won't go back up."

"Oh. You can do that?"

The car shifted as she yanked, a wire coming with her hand. Mal braced himself. He and Adalyn shared a glance, "That's the theory."

She pulled her hand away spasmodically and the doors slammed shut, the pneumatics holding them back cut. She pressed the down button. Mal waited for them to fall. But they didn't. The car glided down smoothly, just like it was supposed to. The doors opened faster than usual, but not fast enough to catch attention. Mal led the way through the desks, feeling his heart beat faster. He hated this part. This was the part where, after all the danger was done, it got more dangerous. But they made it to the other elevator, only they weren't alone. A single officer boarded the car with them. Adalyn put herself between him and Mal, the perfect barrier. The officer spared her a glance, but didn't really start a conversation. Adalyn smiled, that way she could, that made everything okay.

Mal felt his trigger finger itch. He wanted a gun. Wanted to have some security. But Adalyn seemed calm. She was sharing suggestive glances with the officer, pulling back strands of hair from her face. His shoulder radio came on. Adalyn winced when the crackled voice said the security elevator back there wasn't working. The officer shrugged, clicking on his radio and telling them to get a mechanic up there to fix it.

He looked to Adalyn, "Never can rely on machines."

She nodded, "Never can."

"Hey, weren't you just up there with Henderson?"

"_Shuh muh_?"

"I thought I saw you two go up with Henderson."

"Oh, that nice young fellow said it was a mistake, sent us back down."

"What'd you go up for?"

"Honestly couldn't tell you. Just been told to go."

"That's how it works, more often than not."

Mal didn't like this conversation. It made his already itchy trigger finger more so. He kept his eyes on the wall, hearing the consistent thrumming of the elevator car. He'd failed to notice it before. Of course, they'd been involved in a discussion.

"Really? I'd think the likes of such fine gentlemen as yourself wouldn't make mistakes."

He smiled, "More the computers than us, truth be told. They say bring, we bring."

Mal tried to keep from rolling his eyes. The officer's radio came back on and this time, Mal felt his heart stop. This report was about them and about the hydraulics being cut on the car. That the video showed a young woman and a man hauling Henderson out of the car—

Adalyn nailed him in his sternum before he could put two and two together. Mal stepped back, letting her work. He coughed and Adalyn brought her elbow down onto his neck. It didn't snap, but it threw him down fast enough to knock him out. She let him down gentle, looking up to Mal.

"We'll have to get out quick."

"I do agree."

The elevator doors slid open and Mal dragged Adalyn from the car, leaving the officer there. They walked back through the promiscuous corridor and met the stairs at the end, moving quicker than he'd thought possible. They made it down another level, their haste covered by the general mob of people that inhabited the lower levels.

"Hey!"

Adalyn spun, lashing out with a swift kick to take down the officer that came up in front of him. He barreled through the crowd, landing on his back. That was when they ran. Adalyn grabbed his gun on the way past. They were too close to be stopped now. They were only a floor up, the stairs right there. Mal almost tripped, he went down them so quick. Adalyn was right behind him.

The shots fired over his head first. He ducked, looking to Adalyn. She aimed with the gun she'd lifted. Four shots, and those who'd been shooting fell over the guardrail, dropping to the main floor. He stared at her; she hadn't blinked.

"You are a bit of work, you know that?"

She lowered the gun, "I told you—"

A blow landed in her upper arm. It wasn't a bullet. She ignored it and fired at the sniper she hadn't seen before. He collapsed. Then she looked to the plush end of the dart sticking out of her. She handed over the weapon, plucking the dart from her flesh. Whatever had been in its reservoir was out now, floating around in her system. She read the engraving on the reservoir.

"Oh, no."

He took the cartridge from her, "What?"

Her gaze turned onto something distant, "Norapine."

He remembered that name, "_Ai_ _ya_."

She shook the blurriness from her eyes. He watched her start to sway and she shook her head again, "You gotta get outta here."

He yanked on her, heading to the dock, "I ain't leaving you behind."

"Mal..you've gotta go. It won't take much longer."

"I got less than five minutes to get you dosed out, so let's not waste time."

"Mal…you're too late…"

He continued to yank on her, feeling her go down behind him. He lifted her up like a child, her oblivious eyes cast on the ceiling. Her wide eyes stayed away from his. He crossed the threshold to meet River. She knew. He put Adalyn down on the cargo bay floor and pounded on the door lock. Adalyn lay there, starting to shiver.

"River, get Simon. Tell him to have a mighty large dose of morphine ready."

She ran off. He stayed with her as her pupils dilated and her breathing shorted out on her.

"Adalyn, fight it off. You can control this thing."

"Mal…"

She grabbed his hand. He took it, watching her fight. Her brow was furrowed, her teeth clenched. He stayed there, over her. She stopped moving, her breath caught in her throat and her eyes blank and cast to some unknown point. Her hand went limp around his own.

"Adalyn?"

He flew through the air, hitting the base of the stairs with his head. He felt vertigo try to pull him under and he shook his head free of it. He watched Adalyn stand with sure and steady legs. He averted his eyes and crawled over to the intercom.

"Don't look her in the eyes! Don't raise a we—"

He felt his lungs stop in mid breath. His body turned over and he was left on his back, staring into Adalyn's demented eyes. He'd wondered once what those eyes looked like when she was triggered. Now he knew.

She leered at him. He tried to breathe. She watched him sadistically as he gasped. He felt whatever consciousness he had start to drift away. She was suffocating him with her mind and she would kill him before the others could dose her.

He saw River come up behind her. Adalyn had ignored her, her mindset more on killing those who weren't the reader.

River kicked her. Adalyn fell.

Mal gasped as air rushed back into his lungs. Zoe was at his side, yanking him away from the fight. He watched River try to knock another kick to Adalyn's head. Adalyn blocked it with one wrist, using her free hand to land a blow to River's midsection. River rebounded and tried to throw a punch while Adalyn stood. Adalyn ducked and landed a kick to River's temple, bringing her down. River floundered for a moment, her own mind distorted. Then those eyes turned back on him. He sat up, trying to get ready for whatever she had in mind. Knowing if he could just survive this, it all would be okay.

River jabbed her in her back. The syringe was emptied. Adalyn spun, smacking River across the face with a backhand. Adalyn stood there for a moment, her foggy mind dealing with two distinct impulses. She started to sway. Mal stood, Zoe helping him. She turned and her eyes met his. She was coherent, her eyes telling him that much.

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Mal?"

He kept his distance, "I'm here."

Her eyes rolled up into her head and she fell like dead weight. He felt his heart skip a beat. River stood and quickly ran to her side. She turned Adalyn on her back. Simon was next to her, having stayed on the staircase until now. He checked for her pulse, holding her wrist.

"She's still alive. Pulse is strong."

"River, you okay?" Mal turned his attention to her.

He lip was busted but she seemed none the worse for wear. She nodded, her eyes still on Adalyn.

"I need you to get us out of here, River."

"But, Adalyn…"

"Adalyn'll be fine. I need you to fly us outta here, nice and slow, so we don't get locked and boarded. Okay?"

She stood, nodded slowly and started for the catwalk stairs. He watched her leave, turning his attention back to Adalyn. She was still out and she wasn't trying to kill anybody. But she had almost. He hadn't been too far away. She could've ended him, left him gasping. But River had saved him. He sighed, watching the young doctor administer another drug.

Adalyn bolted upright, gasping for the very air he'd been denied. Simon jumped back, landing on his haunches. Mal jumped, seeing Zoe startled, too. Adalyn doubled over and rolled, holding onto her gut with her knees and forehead to the deck. She coughed and gasped, the drugs overwhelming her training and her senses.

"Adalyn? You sane?" he asked.

She nodded, "I'm here."

That was when he walked closer. When he knew she was back. She continued to cough, her body shivering. He steadied her, taking off his coat to put over her shoulders. He tried to help her to her feet.

"Come on, we'll get you fixed right."

She nodded, leaning on him. Simon dumbly followed, unsure of what had just transpired. Mal looked over his shoulder to Zoe.

"Make sure we're set and that Inara and Kaylee are okay."

"Yes, sir."

He led her as her body shivered uncontrollably. Jayne came down the catwalk stairs, catching on to Adalyn's frailty.

"What happened?"

"She was triggered," Mal answered.

* * *

Adalyn sat up, her body still shivering furiously. She still had Mal's coat on, and more blankets on top of that. Her lungs spasmed on her, making her cough every now and again. She wrapped her hands around herself, trying to control her limbs.

"What happened back there?"

"It was norapine."

"Norapine?" Simon asked.

"Yeah. One of the guards tried to dose her. Only problem being that the Academy used norapine as a trigger. It's been standard in riot patrol machines for last century. She ever had to do her job in public and got nailed by a gun, she'd trigger. Start killing."

"Well, if she had a resistance to it, an immunity from continual dosing, that would explain why it didn't put her to sleep. But why morphine? It's the same drug only with a different catalyst. Different dosage."

Mal shrugged, "Don't know."

"It's a failsafe."

They all looked to her. She tried to control her breath, "So that, if ever it was a government man they needed done in, the guards couldn't stop me and wouldn't live to identify me. And the morphine would knock me out. Short circuit me, or so they said."

"This has happened before?"

She nodded.

"Will you be okay?"

"Yeah, the shakin'll go away in an hour or so."

"Do you need anything?"

"Something for a headache…might be nice."

Simon walked back to the infirmary and took out a small vile and a syringe to go with. He came back and injected her with a larger-than-normal dose. She watched him, her eyes shivering like the rest of her body. Mal sighed. It had been close. But she'd gotten them through it. He was right to have trusted her.

"C'mon. Let's get you to your own bed."

Mal started to help her off the common room couch when Jayne stepped forward. Mal stepped aside. Adalyn spared Jayne a glance, coughing. He lifted her from the couch, carrying her from the room. Mal watched them go. They walked down the short hall, and disappeared into her room.

"Will she be okay?" Simon asked.

"Should be."

"I checked on Kaylee and Inara. They're fine. No bruises, wounds. Nothing. He didn't lay a finger on them."

"Good."

"And you?"

He shrugged, "One good thing 'bout being strangled by a telekinetic? No marks."

* * *

Jayne watched her, feeling so helpless. She was sitting up against the headboard of her bed, layers of blankets, coats and clothes soothing her incessant shivering. But it wasn't as bad as it had been ten minutes ago. Now she could control it, keep it from overwhelming her. But now was when the headache set in. He could see it in her eyes. The pain started to register.

"You want me to get the doc?"

She shook her head, "No. I'll be shiny."

He saw her eyes start to well up with tears at the pain. She held her head in her shivering hands. Jayne moved from the small stool to sidle up next to her. Taking his shooting gloves off, he threw them to the night table. He slowly ran a hand around her back, the other around her front, to hold her close to him. She didn't pull away. She leaned into him, let him hold her. With her hands on her temples, she just sat in his embrace. She moved one hand away and let her head rest against his chest. He could feel the pounding of her temple through his shirt. He took her hand.

She sighed, wincing again, "Thanks."

He didn't say anything. He just kissed her on the crown of her head. He hated seeing her like this. Hated when she was in pain and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't hit anyone for her, couldn't shoot the person responsible. It was inconsolable. That was the worst part.

"Are you sure you don't need the doc?"

"Yeah. It'll pass. I should just sleep."

He nodded, letting her shimmy down from his chest to lie under the covers. He helped her settle in before he lay next to her. He kissed her once on her exposed neck before draping an arm over her midsection. She nestled against him, her body and his layered. She was still shivering a bit, and her pounding temple was visible from where he lay. But she would get better like she always did.


	14. Lost And Found

**A/N: Rewind a bit for this piece to fit in. Again, not chronological. Just seemed like the perfect time to post it. Read/Review please!**

* * *

He watched her shoot back another shot of sake. For all the times she swore she didn't like drinking, she was certainly doing well at it tonight. He'd lost tracks of the shots, but she'd already forced the bartender to open the second bottle. The first hadn't been full, but he reckoned it was more than what he could've gotten away with. Rice wine was like water to him, but sake was as evil as anything he knew.

The bar was mostly filled up with miners and other tradesmen. A soundbox was playing core trash in the corner and Mal heartedly wished they would unplug the damn thing. It was stone and mortar, better than most places but still not what he considered a fancy establishment. At least here, there were enough of all kinds to make sure he wasn't singled out.

They'd both come alone, not expecting the other to be there. Mal had gotten used to going out some nights by himself mostly because Zoe wasn't one much for the drinking anymore and Jayne was known to brawl. Mal wasn't looking for a fight without Zoe by his side. Wasn't looking for a fight at all, actually.

Adalyn put down the cup and motioned for another drink. Mal smiled. She was intent on getting drunk. The least he could do was keep her company. He left his little table in the corner and moved to the bar to sit next to her. She never looked at him, but she took his half-full glass to her lips. Taking a tentative sip, she scoffed.

"Lightweight."

She handed the glass back to him and he smiled, "That so?"

"Ng-Ka-Pei? Stuff's water."

"And sake's that much better?"

She smiled, looking at her little glass, "Oh, this is the best of the best. Made on Boros. I grew up on this."

She finished the small glass and the bartender came over to pour another one, "You drinking with the lady?" he asked, looking at Mal.

"Yeah. I'll have the same."

He put out another glass and Adalyn gave a little chuckle, "Put it on my tab, Dex."

Mal looked at her, "Why? You think I can't afford it?"

"I know you can't."

"And you can?"

"I have ties. You? You can't afford more than a few drops."

"_Deo shao tien_?" he asked, bringing the little glass to his lips.

"Platinum a shot. Fifty for the bottle," she took her shot.

He almost spat out the shot in his mouth, instead swallowing it and coughing afterwards. She smiled, putting her glass on the bar. Mal stared at her and let the bartender fill both their glasses.

"And, if I might ask, where did you get that much money?"

"Daryl gave me the lump of my inheritance. It went to him on account he was my betrothed. He dishes it out to a third party account I can use when I will."

Mal shot the next glassful, "How much was your inheritance?"

She took her shot, "Seven-hundred-thousand credits."

He smiled at her, chuckling under his breath, "And here you are, living on my boat. Never knew I had royalty aboard."

"If I die you get it."

He coughed again, "What?"

"If I die, the money goes to you. I've got no other kin in this verse. Daryl's sitting sweet on his family fortunes. You and yours need it more than anyone else."

"Very kind of you, thinking you'll get killed on my watch."

She took another shot, "If a job doesn't kill me, the government's work will."

"I won't ever let that happen," he took his shot, _Won't ever let those sumbitches hurt you again._

"Very noble of you."

"What can I say? I'm a gentleman. So what got you out here drinking by your lonesome?"

She looked at him tiredly, "You don't know what day it is?"

"Not off hand."

"Mark's birthday."

Mal watched her take another shot and he felt his own sorrows dwell up for the slightest moment. He could understand, with perfect clarity, why she was here drinking. Hell, it had been him in her situation, he would be doing the same. Only he wouldn't be drinking the finest sake the verse could dish out.

Their glasses were filled again. He lifted his, "To Mark. Happy birthday."

She gave the slightest smile before clinking her glass with his and taking it to her mouth. He felt his head spin a bit with the motion, but he smiled, putting his glass down for another. She did too, looking to the bartender when he came closer.

"What am I at?"

"Full bottle. Wan' me t'cut ya off at this one's end?"

"That'll work," she dug in her cargo pant pocket and pulled out a short stack of high-denomination bills, "Here. This should cover it."

She handed them over without a pause and Mal only shook his head. The bartender counted them out and handed three bills back. She refused them and he smiled.

"_Xie Xie_."

"You're generous, that's for damn sure," Mal smiled and took the next shot.

"Not like I can use it for anything else."

"Oh, I could think of a few things."

She sighed heavily, pausing with the glass away from her lips. He waited for his shot to be filled again and watched her, seemingly lost in thought.

"You alive over there?"

She almost smiled, "This was going to be my first dance. After the wedding."

He hadn't noticed the music they'd chosen to play since he'd come over. But seeing that wistful face on her, knowing that she could never have the life her inheritance could buy, made him wonder if the music was really as bad as he'd thought. It was a slow song, heavy with the piano and a bit somber for what he thought would be a first dance. But, it hadn't been his wedding. It'd been hers. And now she wouldn't have any of it.

"You wanna dance?"

She looked at him, "You don't dance."

"Do a bit. Yes or no?"

She smiled and nodded. He took his shot, she took hers, and he led her out to the dance floor. There were others there, young folk and old, holding each other close. He could remember dancing like this once or twice back on Shadow, with a woman he'd not mention to anyone nowadays. He took Adalyn close, one hand on the small of her back and the other holding hers. They swayed, nothing fancy, but he watched her relax. Her palm was warm in his and he loved it. He hadn't danced like this in a long time and even that stint on Persephone didn't come close. This was different. This was a connection. Three months now, and he'd never admitted how much he admired Adalyn. Never admitted that he wanted to be with her until she put her head on his chest over his heart.

He let his own head rest on hers. He would never be the fancy man she'd left on Boros. He could never claim riches or fancy upbringing. Although thinking she'd still go for Daryl after all this time made him smile a little. The man was decent, no two ways about it, but he wasn't the man to accept the risk of living with a fugitive. Knowing her, yeah. Living with her, not a chance.

He found her eyes and they were all manner of beautiful. So very much the woman her brothers thought she would become and most definitely not at the same time. And the sake had to have been evil 'cause he found the idea of kissing her slipping into his foggy brain. He wanted to, had wanted to, and there was no right or reason behind it.

"Addy…"

"What?"

He kissed her. Felt warm, wet, sake-flavored lips touched his and he didn't stop. Gentle, though. The haze on his brain made it take a moment to realize she wasn't kissing him back. He pulled back, seeing her closed eyes and still lips. He swallowed when she opened her eyes slowly, looking at him. She blinked.

_Please, say something so I don't have to_, "I, um…"

"It's late. I think I just want to finish my tab."

He felt his heart stop. He'd crossed that line he swore he never would and she wasn't saying a damn thing about it. Making like it never happened.

She gently broke loose of his grip and he watched her move back to the bar. He stood there alone on the dance floor for a moment before he followed her. He sat next to her and the bartender poured them both a shot.

"I'm sorry."

She looked at him, "Don't worry about it."

"No, I…"

She put her hand over his, "Don't worry."

* * *

The walk back from the bar wasn't long, but it was chilly. Adalyn had no jacket and Mal had given her his. He wanted to feel the cold because the searing heat in his gut wasn't doing him any good and being close to her when he could see every curve didn't make the heat any less hot. The jacket had helped. Hid some of what he found so appealing, but not much. Why did he have to kiss her? He blamed the sake. He decided it was the sake's fault. And the way the world was spinning ever so slightly told him the sake was blaming him back.

The ship lingered there like a beacon, telling him he would be home safe and sound and nothing else would embarrass him once he got there. Adalyn smiled. She, for the excess to which she'd drank, looked perfectly fine.

"She really is beautiful. I can see why you fell in love with her."

He wasn't looking at _Serenity_ when he grunted a 'yeah'.

She didn't notice, "Mark used to tell me horror stories about old ships that'd been salvaged. Firefly's were usually in there."

"You still came aboard with that?"

"How couldn't I? No better chance for a girl like me."

"She ain't the Royal Copley."

"Still feels like home."

He didn't say much to that because he knew there was nothing he said would take away the awkwardness he felt. He still blamed the sake when he walked up to the cargo door and opened it, finding it heavier than usual. He had to give a smile when she helped him open it, letting it slam shut after they'd both gotten in.

"Well, so much for a sneaky entrance."

"Nah, they've all probably gone t'sleep. Near to three o'clock."

"Don't you have a job to pull tomorrow? Today?"

He smiled, "Ain't 'til tomorrow night. Got a good long while before I need to be focusing."

"Lucky you. I have to make breakfast."

They clambered down the common room stairs and he suddenly wondered why he was following her. His bunk was the other way. Hell, everything except the infirmary was the other way. Wondering, he forgot to pay attention to his lazy feet and they caught on something that wasn't there. He stumbled a bit down the last step.

Adalyn braced him, "You okay over there?"

"I still think sake's evil."

She smiled widely, "For some."

He looked at her, "You ain't even swayed, are you?"

She shrugged, "Just a little. I'm looking good compared to you."

"Remind me not to get into a drinking contest against you."

"I'll be sure to make a mention of it. Do you need help to your bunk, Captain?"

He stared down at her. Well, not necessarily down at her 'cause damn it if she wasn't his height in those boots. He took a moment before he realized they were at her bunk.

"No. Think I'll be fine."

"Sure? Because I don't want Zoe on my tail for letting you fall flat on your face."

"I'm sorry I kissed you."

She stared at him. He leaned against the straight-up ladder and watched her face for a moment. Blank and unreadable. It must've been a thing in her family 'cause her brothers had been able to pull off that same look. He waited, wondering just what exactly was going through her head behind those blank, green eyes. She inhaled deep. _Here it comes. The tongue lashing. The arguing._

"Unexpected, I'll give you that. Didn't think sake was that mind-fogging."

He sighed, not wanting her to think for a second that this was only the sake because he knew, on some deeper level, that it wasn't and he needed her to know it, too, "It wasn't the sake. Isn't the sake. Just…just makes it easier."

"Am I that intimidating?"

"Have you seen the way you shoot?"

She smiled, "Well, you're not exactly an open book yourself. I mean, you were their sergeant. My captain. I just never thought—"

"Don't call me captain."

"What?"

"Don't. Brothers never called me sergeant. You don't call me captain. Can't stand it coming off your lips."

"I'm not my brothers."

He touched her cheek. Her hair past that, "Had noticed."

"I'm not taken, either."

He shifted, pulling his weight from his immobilized shoulder on the ladder, letting his arm have more motion. He stared her down (though not really), watching her dazed eyes meet his. He didn't care what she thought, how she reacted. He was too hazed to stop himself.

He took her face in one hand and kissed her. She didn't pull away, didn't stop it. She was receptive this time, and he loved it. He stared her in the eyes again.

"Noticed that, too."

"I think you've had too much sake," they kissed again.

"May be the case. You objecting?"

"No."

"I think you should. I think one of us should and I know it won't be me," he found her lips.

"Why do you want me to stop you?"

"Because I know it's wrong."

"Why wrong?" she tilted her head back as he worked on her neck.

"You're their little sister…and Jayne's got something fierce for you."

She eyed him, "Living in the shadow of dead kin isn't the way to live. And Jayne ain't here. Don't treat me like a child."

"Never said you were. Know full well you're a woman."

"But you think it. You think I'm a girl. Have since day one."

He kissed her hard, feeling her warm skin under his fingers, "I starting to forget that thought."

She exhaled from the depth of her diaphragm. It sounded like a soft breeze and felt just as heavenly, "What about shipboard relationships?"

"This isn't a relationship."

"I can live with that."

He shifted again, moving in to kiss her. He found her neck. She ran her hands through his hair, down his back, barely scratching him. The scramble into the room and the attempt to close to the door took away precious moments of contact and Mal wanted to make up for every single one.

"How long?" she whispered.

He circled her lips for a moment, "Too long. You?"

"Can't remember."

"I'll take it slow, then."

"Obliged."

He felt a gnawing sensation in the pit of his gut, and he shivered. He knew, somehow, it was her. His glazed eyes half closed, he peered at her from under his lashes.

"What…"

"Telekinetic, remember? I know my anatomy."

He shivered and exhaled smoothly as her mind brushed past nerves he didn't know he had. He could almost feel her in the depth of himself, making this all too sensational, "I'll say you do."

He felt her hands guide him to the bed, making him sit. She came up onto his lap, sitting there as they kissed. The warmth of her ran through him and he felt her teeth at his earlobe, then farther down onto the crevice of his neck, the sensitive hollow where his jaw met his ear. He exhaled, feeling her mind again in the depths, infuriating his senses. She rolled him onto his back and he was too hazed to wonder why. She shadowed him, rolling his suspenders down off his shoulders. His shirt she pulled at next. Still, he could feel her under his skin. Her cool hands and fervid touch exposed his chest. He sat back up, her still on his lap. He kept his hands on her head, kissing her as she traced hypnotic circles on the inside of his thighs.

He ran his hands down her shoulders, taking her loose tank shirt down with his gentle touch. She was as exposed to him as he to her, their flesh mingling as they pressed together to kiss. He gasped, feeling her mind again. This time, she went further, her mind encroaching on parts of him that had been left dormant for too long. He almost pulled away, unable to concentrate on her while she was concentrating on him. They stopped kissing for a moment and she held his head, cupped it in her hands. Their eyes met. He swallowed.

"Adalyn…"

"Do you want me to stop?"

He gasped, her mind pulsing a sensitive nerve. He closed his eyes, trying to control himself. He felt it again and grabbed at her back. It dimmed for a moment, her giving him the chance to regain his sanity.

"Do you?" she whispered into his ear.

His dazed eyes opened and he stared at her, "I won't if you won't."

She smiled, pressing her lips to his. He could feel smooth, bare skin under his fingertips, the small of her back wet with perspiration. Her nails ran down his arms and her mind dug into him, making him gasp and shudder. She straddled him, grinding her hips against his. Her nails traced lines down his back, reaching the small of it as he lifted her hair from her neck. He rolled her under him, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

She ran her hands down along his arms, her nails leaving little pink lines of reaction along them. The slight pain made him smile, feeling her mind still tugging at parts of him he didn't know could be roused. She twisted her hips and he felt her weight on top of him suddenly. He smiled as her legs entwined around his own, her heat close to his groin. She kept her hands wrapped tight around his wrists. He was pinned, and he found with some apprehension that he liked it. He couldn't touch her as both her mind and her hands held him down, helpless.

Helpless.

He stirred, the sake haze on his brain not enough to drown out the fact that he was helpless. Exposed and enthralled, giving into to something some part of him knew he shouldn't. His heart beat faster, his breath was rasp as she kept him pinned while teasing him with that mouth of hers. _Wuh de mah_, that teasing she could do almost made him forget he was helpless. He tried to roll over again, put her under him like he would feel comfortable with. But she held him down without ever tightening her grip on his wrists. Her eyes wandered up to meet his and she smiled warmly. She dotted his lips with gentle kisses, her lips lingering there and brushing up against his as she spoke.

"Let yourself fall. Let me catch you."

"Adalyn…"

"Shhh. Just for one night. Fall. Trust me."

One of her hands let go of a wrist to take hold of his jaw as she kissed him again. He found he didn't want to move his wrist when she let it go. He could trust her. He could do that much because she was trusting him. She kissed him, sending his senses into overdrive as more of him was made alert and ready by that deep, longing kiss. He couldn't resist touching her. He brought his free hand to her face, running it through those brunette strands of hair that flowed down from her head to shower his face. He let himself be pinned, feeling all of her as she pressed her body onto his, and he started falling.

* * *

Mal woke up and felt a hole in his head. He stayed still for the longest moment. He tried to sit up slow so not to kill his stomach. He took in a drawn breath of cool air. He knew, on some level, that none of what he'd seen had happened. But it still felt too real. He felt spent, and dirty, for the eroticism. He hated what he'd dreamed. Hated that his mind worked like that some times.

The bed shifted.

It wasn't his bed. He looked up and around, seeing that he was most definitely not in his own room. He was in Adalyn's. He sat up spasmodically. She was bracing one foot on the corner of the bed, tucking her pants down into the boot. Where had the dreaming started? He was naked, most definitely naked, and from the lingering tiredness he knew what at least wasn't a dream.

"Adalyn?"

She smiled when she looked at him, "Hey, Captain."

Had he dreamed about telling her not to call him captain? No, he hadn't dreamed that part. But with him naked in her bed, he wasn't about to press the issue. There was a bigger one at stake.

"Did, uh, did we…"

She buckled her boot, "Yeah."

He suddenly felt the need to get up and out, get dressed and leave. He bolted from the bed, the realization that he hadn't been dreaming more tactile now that she was staring at him strangely. He yanked the sheets up to cover himself, looking for his strewn-about clothes.

"You okay?" she asked.

"No…I think this has reached a level of not being okay. We…you and I…this wasn't supposed to happen…because we're not…you're not…"

"Mal."

He stopped rambling. She walked over to him with the most sympathetic face he thought a human being could muster, and looked him in the eyes. He wanted to melt. There was so much bated passion behind those eyes. Knowing what hadn't been a dream made him see that bit of her that he'd ignored until last night. The inherent sexuality she exuded. He could see so much deeper into her now, and the reason behind it was frightening. But she'd called him by his name.

"No complications."

"Wha?"

"It happened and I'm fine with that. You don't owe me anything."

"It ain't that simple."

She sighed, "Right now, it has to be. Right now, I have to make breakfast for everyone. We can talk more later. I have to go. So do you. So get dressed, and get through this day, and we'll talk later."

She started for the door. He blinked, not understanding on some level that she was leaving him behind to deal with his guilt on his own.

He'd bedded her. Even just thinking it made him feel too low for his liking. It was vulgar and crude only because it was with her. And as she slipped the door closed and walked down the hall, he realized how much he wanted to crawl into a corner and die.

But it had been amazing. She'd done things…and he'd let himself go. He'd let himself fall and, true to her word, she'd caught him. Vulnerable and bare, she'd caught him. He stood there, wrapped in her sheet, knowing she'd caught him.

* * *

She looked up at him blandly, no anger, no expectation, and he felt his heart drop into his chest. Was it only him that felt this way? Wishing the verse would conjure up some deep black hole he could be swallowed up in?

"Yes?" she prompted.

He shifted, "Said we'd talk later."

"I didn't think you'd take me literally," she almost smiled.

"Well, I did."

"So. Speak your piece."

He stood there, thumbs latched onto his gunbelt, wishing she'd stop being so calm. He wanted her to be emotional. Then at least he knew where he stood.

"What happened last night?"

"We had sex."

"No. No, I mean, between us. What happened between us?"

"You trusted me. I trusted you. And we had sex."

"Yeah, I do remember that last part."

"I'd hope so."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. I don't want anything from you. That was clear from the get-go. No complications. No relationship."

"It don't feel right."

"I can't help you with that part."

"Then what do we do?"

"Take it at face value. It was a night. Not anything more."

"I took advantage of you."

She smiled, "No, you didn't. Besides, you honestly think you could make something happen I didn't want it to?"

"Well, no."

"So no guilt. If you enjoyed it, then that's all that matters."

"Adalyn…how am I supposed to see you every day and not feel guilty?"

She considered that, her eyes drifting off his for a moment, "I can leave if it'll be easier for you."

"That ain't what I meant. You shouldn't have to leave. Not on account of me. I mean, you're okay with it and if it don't bother you…then it don't bother you."

"It's no reflection on you, if that helps at all."

He smiled, "Really don't."

"Did you? Enjoy it?"

"Yeah."

"Then what's got you all tied up in knots?"

"That I enjoyed it. You…you took me places I ain't ever been. Ain't never let my guard down like that. And you…you…"

"I caught you."

He stared at her, knowing that was what it came down to. He'd been stripped in more ways than one. She'd seen him more laid out than he'd ever wished to be seen, and it bothered him that her knowing didn't actually bother him. He could live with her knowing. He could see that she wouldn't use it against him. She trusted him. He trusted her.

"You caught me. How? How did you catch me?"

"You trusted me enough to let yourself fall."

"I was drunk."

"Doesn't make a difference. A man wants to keep his defenses up, even drunk, he'll keep them up. You didn't."

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"I mean, was it just about me?"

"No. It was good. And yes, it was all about you."

"What you did…it was new."

She smiled again, "Well, I'd hope so. I mean, I didn't think you'd ever bedded a telekinetic before. Be a bit surprised if you weren't new to it. So, what'd you think?"

"So, what, we're rating it now?"

She smiled, pulling herself off her bed and walking over to him, "We don't have to."

"So we're okay?"

"We're okay. We got what we needed, what we wanted, and we can both live with that. We know better. People like you and me know better than to wish for happy endings. So, no wishing. We'll be friends. We'll trust each other."

"I don't think that'll be a problem."

She started for the door, pausing to look back at him, "I'll always catch you, Mal. Always."

He turned to face her, seeing her soft smile, "When do I catch you?"

She smiled thoughtfully, "You'll know."


	15. A Lost Conversation

Simon shuffled between feet. He stood outside Adalyn's door, unsure if he should knock or just start cracking it open. He'd stood there for a good five minutes already and he still wasn't sure exactly what he was doing. He just knew that, if anyone on this ship could help put his mind to rest, it would be her.

They weren't exactly friends. But at least she'd stopped calling him 'boy'. He was now either 'Simon' or 'Doc'. But she never touched him amiably, never slapped him on the back when she was happy because they'd averted some catastrophe. That wasn't their relationship. She tolerated him and they held secrets for each other, but only because she could kill him the moment she suspected her secrets hadn't been held to confidence. She'd actually started respecting him as a person. Not a person she was warm to, but a person nonetheless. He was no longer just a doctor that reminded her of an all-together unfriendly past.

He raised his hand for the third time in as many minutes. He knocked lightly, hoping now that maybe she would ignore him like she so often did. But the door slid open and he saw her sitting on her bed, polishing her favored PSR. Hell, that made things intimidating. She didn't bring her gaze up to meet him when he stepped over the threshold, only clicked a magazine into place.

"Wondering how long you were gonna stand there," there was the slightest tone of a joke on her voice.

He smiled nervously, "Yes, well, I didn't want to disturb you."

He should've known she'd know he was there. She was well-trained enough to know. He just hadn't thought about it until then. So much for her beating some needed instincts into him.

"Not disturbing."

"I had a question. A personal question. And if I cross a line you tell me and I'll go away but there's no one else on this ship I felt comfortable going to, so, here I am."

She looked up at him for his quick rant. She put the shining cloth aside and walked across the bunk, putting the sniper rifle in its hidey-hole. She leaned on the desk, not at all threatening, with her palms braced against the edge of it.

"Close the door," she said softly.

He did so and turned back to face her. He had yet to have seen this side of her. This side that was more psychologist than assassin.

"What's your question?"

He fumbled with his hands, "Do you…I mean, um, do you prefer…um…Do you like it rough?"

She punched him. Not as hard as she could but hard enough. He stumbled a bit, grabbing onto his wounded jaw and looking back up at her, "Ow! I told you to _tell_ me if I was crossing a line!"

He swore he saw the slightest play of a smile tugging at her lips, "Sorry. Instinct. Why, do you?"

He straightened, thoroughly confused and still holding his jaw, "I thought I was crossing lines."  
"Stupid enough to ask. Stupid enough to answer. Speak your piece."

He gave a slight, choked chuckle and sat on the edge of her bed, looking up at her. She leaned back against the desk again, crossing her arms over her chest. He was no body-language expert, but he knew he'd hit a chord with the question.

"I don't know. I just know…I mean, your relationship with…you both seem happy with it and I, uh, was hoping for some insight."

She noticed the lack of her lover's name if her angrily bemused expression was anything to go by. He would never say it because it would likely earn him another hit. That was one secret he'd inadvertently stumbled onto and had thus become a protector of. Not that he blamed her for her choice at all. _He_ was a good man and one Simon could see Adalyn being with. He just knew that no one else knew and she hoped to keep it that way.

"How long have you and Kaylee been having sex?"

He swallowed, "Eight months."

"And what suddenly made you blurt out a question which could've been very wonderfully avoided?"

He blushed a little. He hated that Adalyn could make him feel more under-the-spotlight than anyone. He cleared his throat, "I tried the other night," he cleared his throat again, "and she said she was too tired."

"Ever occur to you she was?"

"She's never been before," he said sheepishly.

"So, she's not up for it for the first time in eight months and you think it's you?"

"Are you sure they didn't make you a psychologist at the Academy?" he asked.

"Don't avoid the question. Do you think it's you?"

"What else could it be?"

"Okay, you're smart enough to know a woman's got her cycles and all that. Smart enough to know that we've got hormones and we get tired and worn out just like you. She could be having her bill. So what makes you think it's you?"

"She's not. I know that much. I am a—"

She was daring him to say the word with that look. He cut himself off. She hadn't even said it. He was still Simon during this little visit and he hated to think what would happen if he crossed the line into doctor-hood while discussing something so personal with the one person on this ship was the most private.

"—good observer. And we share a bunk."

"So what makes you think it's you? I mean, you get her to fall, right?"

He blushed again, "Yes."

"Then what makes you think it's you?"

"I saw her at a store the last time we made planetfall."

"Ahh, and you think she might want more than the standard-issue Simon? That it?"

He rolled his eyes, "Are you so cavalier about everything? God, it's like you're a sadist."

She smiled and pulled out the chair, sitting on it backwards and bracing her arms over the backrest. She sighed, "Look, you came to me with a very personal matter. Which is more than I would do for…well, anyone. So, I'm trying to help. Trying not to laugh and having a very hard time of it, and trying to be worth the embarrassment of asking in the first place. Make sense?"

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Okay, so, what was she looking at?"

He paused. He cleared his throat, "A vibrator."

"And you're offended by that?"

"Shouldn't I be? I mean, I'm being replaced by a battery."

"No, you're not, dumbass. Just means she wants more than one thing. Hell, vibrators can make it better, too, you know. Depends on the type. Did she buy it?"

"No."

"Okay, I'm confused. One: why did you ask me that very personal question and; Two: what does it matter if she didn't buy it?"

"I asked you because I know I'm not Kaylee's first. She's been with others. I was hoping that, maybe if I asked you, I wouldn't have to ask her. Even though she didn't buy it doesn't mean she didn't want to."

"Every woman's different. So's every man. What works for me and him might not work for you and Kaylee."

"In case you haven't noticed, he glows. Like, radioactive-glows. You're doing something right."

"I'm also an assassin. Reading body language is a big part of my job. Does he really glow?"

"Yes."

"Huh. But, anyway, as far as what Kaylee wants from you, she's all over you most times. She loves you, Simon."

"I know. I don't doubt that. I don't. I just don't know what to do to keep her interested. I mean, it's always kind of the same."

"How many women have you been with before her?"

"Okay, that's too personal."

"Compared to what you asked me?"

He sighed. He hated to think she would judge him when he told her. He winced a bit, "Two."

"Long-term relationships?"

"No. Definitely no."

"So, experience isn't your forte."

"Yes, we've established that, thank you."

"And you want—what? Pointers?"

"Would seem so."

She stayed quiet for a moment and he could see her thinking. He could always tell when she was playing things out in her mind because her eyes softened, tightened and there was a little bulge under them that puffed out ever so slightly. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and he waited, patiently, for the wisdom she seemed to have. Her eyes sobered a speck, became a bit morose. He leaned forward a bit, seeing some less-exultant memory playing behind those eyes.

"Adalyn?"

She looked back at him and inhaled deep, "Truth is, Simon, I'm probably the worst person to ask about love. About working relationships."

His brow furrowed, "I don't understand. He's happy with you."

"Oh, I make him happy all right. But there're three kinds of relationships: there's the one where only one partner has control in bed at a time. The control swaps back and forth, but never in the same night. There's the one where one partner has the control all the time—never gives it up. The last is where both partners have control—they give and take depending on the situation; control can be forsaken and taken over and over again in one night because there's trust."

"I still don't…"

"What you and Kaylee have is that last one. It's the best one to have. You're equals."

"Adalyn…"

"The Academy…He can never have control because, if he does, I hurt him. I go back to that place, can't make out where he and the guards differ. Happened once, I almost killed him. Threw him off, tried to strangle him because I thought he was them. Those men. I don't think he knows why he can't have control. I don't know if I want him to. So when you ask me questions like: "Do you like it rough?", I can't answer."

He reached over, took her hand and she stared at him. He'd known the Academy was hard and painful; his own sister would never recover fully. At least Adalyn had gotten out before they destroyed her. But now, he wasn't too sure about that. Being violated was something he would never wish on anyone.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Not something you jump to in conversation."

"Like I did, you mean. God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean…I didn't know…I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've dealt with it. Just, not completely. But when you ask me what you should do for Kaylee, I know what I would do. But I don't know if it's appropriate."

He left his hand on hers, noticing she wasn't glaring at him for it.

"Why? What would you do?"

She almost smiled, "I would tie you down. Let her have control."

He stiffened a little. He trusted Kaylee, there was no doubt about that. But he didn't know if it would make her happier or just plain scared.

Adalyn got up and moved to the nightstand. She shuffled through the lower, deeper drawer and pulled out two long strips of what looked—oh. Simon blushed again. She caught it and her smiled widened.

"Don't just let her have control. Give it to her."

She held out the silk ropes and he took them gingerly, "Have these been…"

"They're new. Haven't been tried out yet."

"Thanks. I guess."

"Glad to help. You'll have to give me an update."

He smiled, standing from the bed, "Yes, well, a gentleman never tells and all that."

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

He started for the door and stopped, "Thank you. And if you ever need to talk…about anything."

"I won't."

He motioned with the ropes and then left, stuffing them into his pocket before getting too far.

* * *

**A/N: I add this at the end this time because I didn't want to tint the reading: I mean, who else could he really go to?** **Jayne? Mal? This is where we mourn Wash. Because if Wash were around, this whole section would have been SO much funnier ... RIP Wash. **


	16. Lost Family

Simon walked into the kitchen slowly. Adalyn's massive array of weapons was laid out on the table and she was picking and choosing and polishing the ones closest to her. She already had that sniper rifle she was so proud of on her back; the leather cross-ways strap over her front hid a knife while keeping the gun flush between her shoulder blades. Her civilian clothes were gone. She had on black armored pants and armor under her tank top. Her hair had been loosely pulled back and wavy strands fell around her face.

She bolted the medium sized pistol, packing in a magazine full of new-fangled ammunition. She slid that into her holster. He could only watch. He'd shot at people before but had never really been successful. Even for all the time he'd spent on _Serenity_, he'd never killed anyone except on Miranda and that didn't count; those had been Reavers. But Adalyn's world had been molded into this robotic, almost carefree, duty.

"There a reason you're watching me?"

He straightened, "No."

"Then talk or get the hell out."

"I meant what I said earlier. About you being insane and a control freak."

"May not be best to say those things when I'm arming up, boy."

"I know. But I wanted to say I still think you're those things. Only I think I respect you for it."

"That so?"

"Protecting people isn't easy. Especially when they don't like how you plan to protect them. Knowing your history—"

"You don't."

He stared at her, silent by her sharp words. She cocked another gun and slammed it into her other holster. She never looked at him, just kept loading herself up with weapons.

"You don't know me, boy. Just 'cause I shared time with your sister doesn't mean you know me. You don't know my history. Hell, you don't know what my reasons are for protecting you and the crew. All you need to know is that I'm armed, I'm pissed off, and I don't care for you to be visiting my intentions. All I need you to do at the moment is be a doctor because your people are probably dying down there. You and me aren't friends. Not now. River loves you and that's enough of a reason for me to protect you. So maybe, when you stop thinking you know me, you actually will."

He stared at her, watching her deft hands caress each piece of weaponry like a flower. He smiled, getting some of what she'd snapped his way. Each bit had been true, and hard to swallow, but this was Adalyn. He stepped closer, looking at the gun nearest him. She was still avoiding eye contact. Still being the assassin they'd made her into.

"Can I venture to guess why you're protecting us?"

She stayed silent. It wasn't a no.

"Because you feel guilty that you couldn't protect your family."

She stopped loading a gun, staying perfectly still. He wasn't sure if he'd just sealed a bullet-ridden death, but just knowing that she'd been hit by his words was something. She slowly looked at him. Her eyes were still hard and green, but they had something else behind them. Regret.

"Am I right?" he asked.

She stared right into his eyes, slowly pushing each bullet into a spare magazine, "Think about what you've got. Kaylee, River…a crew that calls you family. Your life revolves around them. If things get rough, they're the ones you can count on to get you through it. Those days, just the idea of getting to see them makes you hang on a little longer. All of your faith is on them. Now kill them."

Her glare was still on him. He looked away, her hard eyes too much to stare into.

"Truth is, I stopped feeling a long time ago. Tends to happen when you're tortured day in and day out. For ten years. And each day I hung on a little longer because I knew I'd see my mom and my dad and Mark and Jo when I got out. I got out, and they were all gone. So when you think you know me, Simon, don't."

She brushed past him, the butt of her PSR hitting his shoulder. He stood there, immobile.


	17. Even Found, You're Still Lost

**A/N: A little longer than some other pieces. Has major reprecussions for the next long spell on installments.**

* * *

Mal ran, taking River by the hand. The blaring alarms made it hard to hear anything. He shot once glance over his shoulder to see Adalyn step in step with them. He ran through docking bay doors, knowing once they got on the shuttle they would be all right. Adalyn yanked a plank of a bench away and shoved it through the door handles, keeping them shut tight. He started to climb the stair to the shuttle pad. Only another flight of stairs separated them from freedom.

He heard a shot. River screamed. At first, he thought she'd been hit. But when he turned around, he saw Adalyn lying on the floor, scrambling to get to her feet. The shot had come through the glass windows on the doors she'd just boarded. She was holding onto her side, the blood there telling him where she'd been shot. He left River and raced down the stairs. A bullet grazed by him. He ducked down. Adalyn got to her own feet and he tried to help her along. The doors busted in and the officer raised his gun again.

Adalyn's neck was clean for a shot. The dart hit her beneath the ear. She cursed, yanking it out. She looked once to River.

"Get her out."

"I ain't leaving you."

"Go."

She pushed him away, her face pale. He ducked from another shot, running up to River as Adalyn floundered there, the wound and the dart keeping her from moving too much farther. He took the girl's hand and yanked her up the stairs, more guards storming in. He looked down once to see Adalyn stand, taking a swing at a guard that tried to hit her with the butt of his rifle. Another she tripped, keeping him from reaching the stairs. He heard another shot ring out and he saw her flinch. But she was still fighting when he kicked at the door to the shuttle pad. Adalyn's antics wouldn't last much longer. With the cargo door open, he shoved River inside and climbed in himself, starting the engine. They started off the ground when the first bullets ricocheted off the hull.

The lurch of the shuttle was nothing to the fact that he'd left her behind. River came up next to him, kneeling at the side of the chair.

"We have to go back."

"Can't, li'l one."

"She needs us. We have to get her."

"She can handle herself. I'll get you to your happy brother and then go back for her."

"No, no we have to go back!"

He glared at her, "I'm not gonna lose her. You gotta trust me, okay? We will get her back. Just have to figure out how."

He saw the beginnings of tears in those eyes. He sighed, looking between the horizon where _Serenity_ was and the young lady kneeling at his side.

"River, look at me. Adalyn can deal. She's tough and strong and no matter what they do, she will be okay. You know her better than anyone. You know I'm right. Right now, I have to look after you. When you're safe, I swear to you I will get her back. _Dong ma_?"

She nodded half heartedly. He nodded back, grateful for some small blessings. He kept his eyes on the panels, not seeing anyone following them. He'd left her behind. She'd told him to, but he shouldn't have.

* * *

He opened the door and saw his crew meet him. His own transmission a half-hour earlier hadn't been pleasant, hadn't told the story, only that there were complications. Simon, his paranoid self thinking River had been the complication, was the first to meet them. Seeing River unharmed and not a step behind Mal, he calmed. Jayne was the first to ask the question.

"Where's Adalyn?"

Mal continued on to the stairs, "She got left behind."

They all stopped, unable to comprehend what he'd just said. He yanked himself up the stairs to the kitchen, pacing like a caged tiger. How was he supposed to get her out of there? He knew what that man would do. Knew what she was likely going through right now. She would be questioned, interrogated, and beaten for the answers she didn't give.

"Sir? What happened?"

Zoe and the others had followed him up, not giving him what peace he sought. He exhaled deeply, his hands on his hips, "She got nailed. Had to leave her. Had to get out."

"Is she alive?" Jayne closed in on him.

"She is."

"Well, can't she just use that mind of hers to get herself out?" Kaylee asked, standing close to Simon.

Mal shook his head, "Not likely. Gut wound and a dose of something. Probably playing Mary Hobb with her brain. Ain't like a switch. She can't focus, she can't get herself out."

"So we go back and get her," Zoe said simply.

"We do. Man ain't looking for a quick kill. We'll get her back."

"When? After she's in pieces?" Jayne quipped.

"It ain't coming to that. She's been dealt worse blows before. Was her choice to be left."

Jayne threw a punch. Mal staggered, clipping the kitchen counter before falling to the ground. Before he could shake his head free of the blow, Jayne picked him up by his collar, ramming him into the wall.

"Her choice? Been you sayin' she's crew these last four months and you left her! Chose your skin over hers!"

Mal threw his grip, "Wasn't my choice to make. It was all of us or her and she knew it!"

"You never gave a good gorramn 'bout her even when you was—"

He threw his punch before Jayne could finish the words Mal knew would come out. Jayne rebounded and fumed there for a moment, glaring at him.

"We're gonna get her back. So you go figure out what guns you need loaded for the job. _Dong ma_?"

They glared at each other for a moment before Jayne walked away with a huff, brushing past Simon to make his way to his bunk. Zoe walked up to him cautiously.

"Sir, are you really planning to storm the place?"

"Only option we got. Can't give back the cargo and ain't got enough money to spring her. So we go in with guns blazing."

"He could kill her the moment we go in."

"He'll kill her if we don't."

* * *

She knew she'd been drugged. Knew that her mind wasn't working the way it should. Her world was dark but she knew her eyes were open. Her wrists were sore, burning with pain and cold steel. She tried to take the weight off them, suddenly realizing she was barely touching the ground. Her toes in the tip of her boots wouldn't give her any push off the ground. The deep hole in her side was a steady throb, the bullet wiggling around inside and rubbing on things that it wasn't supposed to.

The blackness went away and she was left squinting. A bright light was aimed at her face and the three figures in front of her were black-out shapes, the light giving each of them a halo. She tried to get a hold of something with her mind, tried to exert the control she knew she was capable of, but whatever had been pumped into her blood wasn't giving her what she needed. She yanked at the chains and cuffs that held her wrists hard. She tried to press her boots against the ground to give herself some leverage, but she couldn't. She was too high up to do it. Her shoulders ached for the weight being held by them. It felt like her arms would rip out of her sockets.

Numb. Numb was where she had to get to.

"Welcome back. Thought that dose might have been too much for you."

The voice came from one of the black figures; it was smooth and young, not at all what she expected. She yanked on her chains again.

"Oh, don't bother. The sedative won't wear off anytime soon and until it does, you'll be weak as a kitten, I'd wager. Might be some tingling as a side effect, but I wouldn't worry about that. It'll fade once the pain kicks in."

"What're you after?"

"My property, of course. You and those who escaped stole from me. I want my property back."

"Got no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you do. Two thousand pounds of protein and medicine? A crateful of ammunition?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"Now, I should warn you, I don't like being lied to."

She tried to smile, the blank face still disconcerting, "Doubt many people do. So, why don't we call it a day. This way neither one of us gets disappointed."

He stepped forward. Adalyn finally got a look at him as he blocked the light hitting her in the face. He was young, stiff blonde hair and a trim face. His suit was immaculate. Looked every bit the gentleman.

"I've given you one warning. I'll not give another."

"Then I guess this'll be a long day for both of us."

He smiled, looking over his shoulder for a moment. Whatever unspoken command he'd given, Adalyn was sure it wouldn't be to let her down. She yanked once more, trying to get her mind to wrap itself around the chains. The second black figure stayed hidden, moving around like a shark to her side. The third just hung back in darkness. A slice of cold metal pried into her bullet wound. She winced, trying to push the pain away as the second dug into her, playing with the bullet. No matter the discomfort, she laid her head on her already sore arm, her eyes closed.

"Such a brave one. I really don't have a problem torturing you for information. Woman or no, you're still a thief."

She opened her eyes to glare at him, "And you're still gonna get nothing out of me."

"Shame."

She yelped as the prodding metal went further, tearing a new end to the wound and spilling fresh blood. Her nerves fired off while she buried her head into her arm, trying to get back to numb.

* * *

She looked at the living room. She'd never really looked at it before. It had always been there, warm and inviting. The plush ochre walls with deep blue hues swathed her in that feeling. Only now, there was one less person there. She'd never thought he'd actually leave. They'd talked about it, at night when their parents went to sleep. About what heroics they would pull off and what medals they would win. But now, he was in a different quadrant, no doubt being drilled into a soldier. She curled up into a reclining chair, looking at the fire that was starting to die off.

"Hope? You hungry for some cake?"

She just shook her head. He sighed. Jo had always tried to get her to eat when she was like this. Mopey and run-down. Cake had been a friend. But now, cake wasn't enough. Mark had gone off, leaving them there to fend for themselves for the first time in her short life.

Jo sat next to her, in the other chair that was just as puffy and comfortable. He sat there for a moment, not sure of himself and not sure of what she wanted to hear. Truthfully, she wanted to hear their parents had pulled some string, made Mark come back. But she knew they wouldn't.

"He'll be okay."

"I know. It's just strange. Him being gone."

"Yeah. Just you and me. At least we won't be able to gang up on you," he tried to smile.

She looked at him with a wry smile, "You two never had a chance."

"Yeah, okay."

"Don't go."

He looked at her, knowing exactly what she meant. He sighed, "I'd thought about it, honestly."

"I hate being a woman."

He smirked, "You're just a little girl."

She rolled her eyes, "But you and Mark can go. You two can go off and be heroes. Me? I'm left here, made to be a lady. I can't fight with you."

"War isn't meant for ladies."

"Why not? Why can't I fight for what I believe in?"

He sighed, scooting his chair loudly and scrunching up the carpet as a result, "Mark leaving is bad enough. If I leave, you'll have to be the daughter. You know that. Mom and Dad need you. They need to know you're safe."

"I don't want safe."

"We don't always get to choose, sis."

"Have you talked to mom and dad about enlisting?"

"No. I think it's too soon. Maybe in a few weeks, once they realize we're not marching out to our death."

"What am I supposed to do while you two are off being heroes?"

"Well, your wedding is coming up in two years. You could plan ahead for that. You could rearrange my book collection, maybe clean my horse."

"Go clean your own horse."

He smiled, looking back at the fire while she stayed uncharacteristically curled in her seat. It wasn't something she did. Always poised, always the lady. Pretty dresses and handsome suitors. But for now, she just wanted to hug her knees, keeping her aching heart protected from anything.

"Mark will be fine. You'll see. He'll go winning some medal, saving some lives. We'll probably see him on the puppet theater."

"As what? Alliance's Most Wanted?'

They shared a quick chuckle, knowing the Alliance troops that had been steadily landing on Boros would no doubt have something to say about many of the natives enlisting for the other team. But the war had been waged and the gauntlet thrown down. After the mass-murder on Shadow, it wasn't too hard to choose the other side.

"You really think he'll be okay?" she asked.

"Of course he'll be okay."

"If you leave, can I stow away in your trunk?"

He chuckled, "Sure. I'll have you sent priority."

She smiled, satisfied with that. She repositioned herself, snuggling deeper into the warm cozy chair. The flames were about dead. Jo stood, throwing another sustainer into the flames. It caught, sending the flames roaring up into the chimney and changing colors. She was warm on the inside again, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

The whip slammed against her back. She stared blankly ahead, her body swinging a bit from the impact. The young man, a man who called himself Roland, circled her, looking for some reaction. She just kept her head steady, glaring at a little spec on the wall. It was blood splatter, but it was amusing. The blood wasn't running. Wasn't dripping like a glob of blood usually did. So, she watched it, waiting to see if it would run.

The whip lashed out again, stinging her back. She'd lost count after five. Not a very high number to lose count on, but she'd lost it all the same. Her head snapped back as her back snapped forward. But she kept the pain inside, not letting the wince and groan come through. Roland circled her, smiling at that determination.

"You feel like telling me where my property is yet?"

She brought her head down to smile at him, "Sorry. Still think you've got the wrong girl."

"Come now. They left you. Why protect them? Why protect those who would leave you to this horrific, undignified end?"

"Guess we'll have to explore that, won't we?" she smiled, some blood staining her teeth and making her mouth taste metallic. She'd been pounded on for a bit, but when that didn't get through, they'd dragged out a bullwhip. The whip was easier to ignore. The welts and strips of displaced flesh only dulled the next blow that came.

"Are these people really worth protecting?"

He was in her face, smiling at her. She smiled back, another whip making her shudder, "You have no idea."

* * *

Simon looked up, seeing River still pacing the common. From her state, her internal and mumbling state, he had the distinct feeling that Adalyn's stay at that place was anything but pleasant. The captain had warned them about the ferocity of Roland, what he was known for. A regular protégé of Niska's.

"She doesn't want us to come for her," she whispered.

Simon paused, "What?"

His sister looked at him, her eyes deeper, more soulful, "She's worried we'll be hurt if we come for her."

"We'll get her back, _mei mei_."

"She won't let me talk. Won't let me see the pain."

"River, don't do this. You shouldn't... Adalyn wouldn't want you…"

"I want to help her. And she's dying because she won't let me."

He stared dumbly, "What?"

"Shuts me out. Holding me like she's dangerous. They cut and bruise and hurt, and I make her hurt more."

"Can you…sense her?"

"Shut me out. Can't sense a ghost."

"Is she…?"

She shook her head, a furroed brow on her face, "Alive. But dead."

Simon stared at her for a moment, not sure what line had been crossed between Adalyn's mind and hers. But River was upset. Upset about the situation at hand. Whereas the captain and Jayne were at each other's necks, and Zoe helping plan their extravagant break-out plan, River was just there, digging deeper into the ravine of hell Adalyn had fallen to.

* * *

She was young. Early teens, if not younger. Pale, too. Her hair was dark, long, and wavy. She'd seen her once or twice before, when the charade of the Academy was still keeping her sane. But now the pretenses had been dropped and the rat maze began. Most times, the drugs kept her from doing anything except exist. But the smaller doses had let her explore a bit. Not much, but enough to know that the new girl on the block was one the Academy had wanted, just like she was. A reader. A mythical human in legends and history. Also, like her.

So when the girl was thrown into her bunk one evening, she shrugged. Like many of the new ones, the girl sat there, curled up in a corner. If she wasn't mistaken, the first few days were when the most traumatic experiments occurred. She'd heard the scientists and doctors say this was the one they wanted. A real reader. She had the profile, the smarts. And now she would be molded into a weapon.

Hope smiled when the girl finally asked what was going on. She tried to keep from chuckling.

"You mean you haven't figured it out?"

She shook her head.

"School's out. Now real life begins."

"I don't understand."

"You're a guinea pig, sweetie. I heard they're gonna make you something special. They might actually keep you alive."

The girl blanched. An impressive feat considering how pale she was when she first came through the doors. Sitting in a bunk and feeling the tingling of inhibiting drugs in her fingertips and toes, Hope shrugged.

"Or maybe they'll kill you by accident."

"You're joking, right?"

"Killing you would be the merciful thing. Believe me."

"No, they can't do this to me. I have a family and I need to…they'll come and get me."

Hope eyed her for a moment. The girl was at the verge of crying. She sighed, "The best thing you can do is get that notion out of your head. The moment you stop thinking you'll be saved, then you've got a chance at getting out alive."

"Who are you?"

"Name's Hope. I've been here a while. You?"

"River Tam."

"Good to meet you, miss Tam. So, what did they do today?"

"They hurt me."

"Yeah. They do that most times. But you get used to it after a while. Did they give you anything?"

She remained quiet for a moment, "You mean, to eat?"

"I mean to eat."

"No."

She looked down to the foot of her bed, "Have some. It's not too bad, actually."

River crawled over to the plate of food, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her tight blue hospital gown crinkled and she shivered when the air conditioning kicked on. Hope took her blanket off and threw it over.

"There, put that on. Should help."

"Thank you."

"So, looks like you and me are cell mates."

"Is this really a prison?"

"Near enough. They cut on us, drug us, make us superhuman crazy fighting people, then start all over again when they get a mind to upgrade us. Besides the experiments, the treatment isn't all that bad. Food, clothes, bed and board. Better than some prisons, I suppose."

"How long have you been here?"

"What year is it?"

"2514."

"That would be….six years, I think."

"But why are we here?"

"Couldn't tell you. I just live here. You said you've got family?"

"My parents, my brother. They'll get me out, I know they will."

"Okay, here's what you don't get: you're not going to be rescued. No one ever has, and no one ever will. I tell you this because, once you understand this concept and just give in, you might actually get out. If you rely on anyone else but yourself, you won't ever survive. You're all you've got. Get used to it."

* * *

Adalyn screamed. She chomped her teeth back together, keeping the scream on the inside. But Roland had had his satisfaction. He wanted to hear her scream again. When the hot knife dug back into her gut, she held it back. She wouldn't give him what he wanted. Wasn't willing to do it.

He looked at her with a smile. Bastard thought he'd accomplished something, "So, have we established that I wasn't lying?"

She glared at him.

"I did warn you, you know. Told you it wouldn't help you to protect them."

She laughed, the burning of the knife not so heavy on her mind, "You think I'm protecting them? Think I give a damn?"

"Don't you? Aren't you just stalling? Waiting for the cavalry to come in and save you?"

She exhaled sharply, all she could muster of a chuckle, "They're not coming for me. Probably half a world away by now."

"So why are you so intent on suffering, dying, for these people?"

"Because I'm gonna win."

His brow furrowed, "I'm afraid I don't follow you."

"You can't torture me forever. You'll give in and take me down, leave me to die, or you'll kill me. No matter which, you get nothing from me. And either way, I have a chance to turn it on you. You believe me: you will die and you will see me smile when it happens."

He laughed, "You really believe that?"

"Why not?"

He walked closer, "In case you haven't noticed, you're tied up, bleeding, and drugged. You're not going anywhere anytime soon."

She smiled. She pulled herself up by the chains and threw her legs forward, knocking him back against the wall. Her sides screamed as she reopened dormant wounds. The man behind her yanked out the knife and tried to stab her. She somersaulted and kicked him as she came over, her wrists turning in the locks. He landed under her and she used that extra few inches to stand, throwing her arms up to dislodge the chains from the top of the poles. She fell and gave a quick kick to the man under her. If it was her ankle or his shoulder that cracked, she wasn't sure.

She stood to see a gun aimed at her face. Roland smiled at her, his finger wrapped securely around the trigger.

"You're not going anywhere."

"Never had a mind to. Just thought it'd be fun to rattle the cage."

"You are probably the most insane victim I've ever had the pleasure to torture."

"Do I get a prize?"

"I'll say you do."

He fired.

* * *

Kaylee looked on as the weapons were laid out on the table. She wasn't expected to use them. For that she was grateful. She wanted to stay away from the weapons. They'd told her what they needed and she'd done what she could. Now, it was their job to go in and get her. The captain was stashing guns and ammo in his long jacket. His armored vest puffed out his shirt a little. Zoe had strapped on armor and additional holsters, her vest holding two guns beneath her arms and another two on her back. Her hips each had guns dangling below them. But Jayne was only armed with Vera. He hadn't worn armor like the other two. He had extra rounds stored in his usual belt, but nothing more.

The captain slapped a magazine into a small gun, looking down the barrel to see everything to his satisfaction.

She hated the idea of the three of them leaving them on the ship. Anything could happen. The fanatic holding Adalyn could turn on _Serenity_. Turn on the ship and her crew. In the same way she wasn't wishing for a gun to hold, she was wishing there was something she could do to get her away from the quietly depressing ship.

The captain looked at her, "Got the key?"

She nodded. She handed over the small dome that would let them get in the complex without alarm. He looked at it, turning it over in his palm.

"Good work. Got my map?"

"All worked out. Not a turn or closet we don't know about."

"Can you say where she's being held?" Zoe looked up.

"Looks like a bunker under the bedroom. That's where she'll most likely be."

"Anything else we should know?"

"The only station I saw was on the first floor. Design has room for a dozen guys, so that's where they'll come from if he gets nervous," she added.

The captain nodded, "Okay. Little Kaylee, you keep _Serenity_ hidden. Give us two hours. You don't hear from us by then, you get everyone out."

"Cap'n…I can't…"

"You do it, you hear me? Two hours. I ain't looking for the rest of you to be hostage to this man."

She nodded half-heartedly. He came over to her, "I'm trusting you to keep them safe. Can you do that?"

She nodded again, "I can."

"That's my girl."

He walked away, Zoe and Jayne following. She was left there. Could she do it? Leave them behind knowing full well what would happen to them? He'd asked her to. They were the ones who did the rescuing. She couldn't. Simon couldn't. Maybe River, but that would never happen. The captain, Zoe and Jayne were the best chance there was.

* * *

Mal looked behind him as Jayne as Zoe loaded into the shuttle. They would wait for a moment. He walked down the last flight of stairs and into the common. River was just sitting there. Simon was in his infirmary. He caught the captain's eye and walked out.

"You're going for Adalyn?"

"We are. Told Kaylee to give us two hours. After that, orders are to leave."

"I understand. And Adalyn?"

"We get her back here, she's gonna need some doctoring. Likely you'll have your work cut out for you."

He nodded, "Do you want anything? For the ride back?"

"Was gonna ask you for something what put her at some ease between there and here."

Reaching back into the infirmary, he pulled a small box from a drawer. It was a basic medical kit. He handed it over, "The morphine will help with the pain."

Mal nodded, "Thanks."

"Good luck."

Mal spared one glance at River before he started for the cargo bay stairs. He climbed into the shuttle, throwing the medical kit on the seat. Zoe sat in the pilot's seat, her apt fingers getting them off _Serenity_'s wing.

* * *

She felt her eye socket shatter. The fist came back and landed on her chin, the ring cutting a gash along her jaw. The next blow grazed her cheekbone, the same ring ripping a deeper slice into her face. She felt the hit in her gut over the bullet wound. Each time she was hit, her wrists were cut on, the locks slicing into her sensitive skin. She could feel them grate against the bone. Another hit was from his knee, landing in her side. She felt the bullet still there. The second shot was what had made it easy to give up. He'd fired that gun, and she knew it was over. And when he smashed the butt of it into her temple, she'd blacked out and woken up to find herself back on the poles.

Maybe she wanted it to be over. Even if they did come for her, what would they find? A broken husk of a body. A woman beaten into an unrecognizable pulp. Did she really want them to find her; she didn't know. Mal would make a choice. If it was to leave her there or come back for her, she didn't much care. She'd learned a long time ago not to rely on being saved. It was a wait that was never satisfied. Waiting for others to save you only made the waiting more unbearable. But giving up until the moment presented itself, until you could save yourself, that was easier to deal with. Easier to grasp.

Her muffled hearing let her hear them talking as she swayed. She couldn't really see. Her eyes were swollen shut. One was worse than the other. But she could make out shafts of shadow and light that told her where Roland and his lackeys were. She couldn't really hear what they were talking about, she only knew she had a reprieve from the hitting.

He grabbed her face, made her look at him.

"Do you feel like telling me where they are now?"

She nodded. He leaned in closer. She spat out the blood in her mouth, aiming it for his eye. He recoiled, wiping it away furiously. He backhanded her, her head swimming when it came to rest on her tired arm. He grabbed her neck, forcing his face into hers again.

"Don't think you'll get off that easy."

He threw his elbow up into her jaw. She felt a bit of her tongue come off as her teeth snapped shut. Her head went back and she didn't have the strength to face him again.

God, it was so much easier to give up. Even when she could heard scuffling outside. Even if she knew, beyond hope or reason, that the commotion was because they were coming for her. The third black figure darted away, leaving the two who'd been tormenting her the most.

Her gaze fell forward again. She was left looking at the bloody tops of boots. She'd just polished them...

* * *

Mal kept his gun trained on Roland. He was smiling, Adalyn's bloody and torn body behind him. She was hanging by her wrists, her boots scraping the deck plates below her. Her face was swollen and blood ran from gashes in it. The man behind her, keeping a knife to her throat, waited. Roland backed away closer to her.

"This is your grand plan, then?"

"Working so far."

Jayne steadied Vera, still aiming at the man behind Adalyn. Mal could feel his own trigger finger itch.

"You kill me and she'll still die."

"She dies and you'd better make peace with your god."

He smiled, "And they say there's no honor among thieves."

"Might be thieves, but we ain't evil. More than I can say for you."

"You'd have been proud of her. Took it like a man. A little screaming, but that's to be expected. For a thief, she has some twisted sense of loyalty."

Mal's jaw worked, "So I've been told."

Adalyn shifted a bit, her eyes finding them. She stared for a moment, her face not showing any recognition of them. Then she almost smiled, her teeth were stained with blood, "Hey, guys."

"Adalyn. Came to get you."

"Had a feeling," she coughed, blood draining from her mouth.

The man behind her pressed the knife against her throat harder, a hairline of blood dripping down to her chest.

She knocked her head back violently, breaking the man's nose with an audible crack. She pulled herself up, grabbing onto the chains to lift her lower half from the ground. Her powerful legs wrapped around Roland's neck as he tried to face her. She held him there for a moment, his hands scrambling to get her knees away from his neck as she glared at him. She smiled. With a scream, she twisted her hips. Roland's neck snapped. She kept him from falling, swinging her legs down so he landed below her. She stood on him and jolted the chains off their rollers, letting herself fall to the ground. She landed ungracefully with a thud against the deck plates. The man she'd knocked stood, trying to get her with the knife. Jayne yanked on the trigger. The man shuddered as bullets ripped through him. Mal ducked down and put his gun aside, getting to his knees at Adalyn's side. Jayne wasn't a second behind.

She was limp, her face blank and her eyes closed. But she was breathing. Jayne searched for the keys to the wristlocks, not finding them in Roland's pockets. He moved over to the dead man, finding the keys in the back pocket. He tore the locks from her wrists before taking her face in his hands.

"Adalyn?"

"She's okay. Need to get her back to the ship."

"Adalyn?"

Her eyes blinked open and she coughed once, "Hey."

"Can you walk?" Mal asked.

She nodded. Mal and Jayne each took an arm gently, not wanting to disturb the strips of flesh that had been worn through by the wristlocks. They braced her arms behind their necks, lifting her slowly from the ground. She winced, yelped, but managed to get her feet underneath her.

"Do appreciate it," she coughed again.

Mal shifted, trying to keep her steady as she faltered, "Come on. Let's get you home."

* * *

She'd just wanted to lie down. Only she didn't want to get up. That wasn't usually a problem. Only now she was bruised, beaten, and hindered with all manner of unpleasant wounds. Simon had gone in to her bunk to find her passed out. Furious as he was with Jayne and the captain for not letting her down in the infirmary, he knew how she tended to get her way when it came to personal matters. So, he'd brought the better part of the infirmary to her bedside, tending to her there and gently scrapping shreds of clothes and sheets that were blood soaked. He did all he could to make her comfortable before leaving her there, River sitting at her side like a mother. He walked out to see Jayne and the others. Jayne stood first, meeting him halfway past the stairs.

"How is she?"

He nodded, "Fine. She won't be much use on any jobs for a few weeks, and her left hook won't win her any brawls, but she'll be fine. There are a lot of internal injuries that I can't get to while she's in her bed, but they're not life threatening. Few broken ribs and fractured bones, a small amount of internal bleeding. She has a concussion. Needless to say, she has to stay bed-ridden for at least a week. Getting up and moving around at this point will only aggravate her injuries."

Mal nodded, knowing there was more the doctor wanted to say but also knowing the whole crew didn't need to hear. He looked around to the others.

"You all got jobs to do. Let's get 'em done and get paid for the trouble. Make sure her suffering weren't for nothing."

Slowly the crew dispersed. Even Jayne walked out to the cargo bay, taking stock of what they had for their troubles. Mal could see his discontented look, knowing he didn't like the idea of him staying behind.

Mal walked over to Simon and lowered his voice, "What else did you want to say?"

He sighed, grateful the captain had read that he didn't want to share the more gruesome details with the others, "She was drugged. Judging by the blood tests, it was more or less a cocktail. A mix of a sensory accelerant and a blood thickener. Make the wounds hurt more and keep her from bleeding out. It would effectively render her telekinesis void. She was whipped, stabbed, and the blunt force trauma might never heal correctly. Her concussion is severe and it will take a few days for her mind to deal with everything. Brain doesn't care to be jumbled."

"But she will deal?"

"It'll take a while. Between now and then, she'll be erratic and possibly violent. The concussion might skew her judgment, make her say or do things she normally wouldn't. It's better for everyone that she doesn't have any abilities while her brain's mending. Her bandages will need to be changed every few hours or so. Now that the cocktail's wearing off, she'll bleed more."

"I'll tell Jayne. He and River'll probably be the ones tending to her the most. Will she be okay? Truthfully?"

"In time, yes. But, even after the physical damage is healed, I doubt she'll be very secure. Mentally."  
"Do recall that's the reaction most people have to being tortured."

Simon stared at him for a moment, lowering his voice confidentially, "She wasn't just tortured, Captain."

Mal stared at him.

"She was methodically violated."

"Violated? You mean she—"

"I don't think she was raped. No. But from the wounds and bruises, it wouldn't be off-base to say that being a woman made it easier for them to hurt her."

Mal sighed with a clenched jaw, "_Wuh de tyen shiao duh__."_

Simon looked over his shoulder, back to her room, before turning his attention back to the captain, "She'll need surveillance for the first day or so. Just to make sure her concussion doesn't cause severe problems. Truthfully, she shouldn't be sleeping but I don't see any way to nicely wake her up. But, she will need to be woken up every hour just to be sure she can."

"Got it. River with her right now?"

"She is. I don't think she'll leave her side anytime soon."

Mal nodded, "Jayne should know. I'll tell him. You keep doing your job. Let me know if anything changes."

Simon paused as Mal started to walk away, unsure if now was the best time to say what he'd wanted to say since the captain had brought River back unharmed.

"Captain…"

Mal faced him.

"Thank you for protecting my sister."

"Suspect that's owed to Adalyn more'n me."

"Still, I'm grateful that River didn't have to go through what Adalyn did. Thank you."

"I told you I'd protect her."

With that, Mal walked off. Simon was left standing there, knowing at any moment Jayne would come down demanding to see Adalyn. He would let him, of course, but that wasn't what really mattered. The captain had said it was Adalyn's choice to be left. He didn't know who he admired more: Adalyn for making that decision, or the captain for listening to her when she did. He very easily could've ignored what she wanted and put them all in danger, put River in danger. But Adalyn cared enough about River to be left, and Mal cared enough about them both to do what he had to.

* * *

Mal felt the whiskey go down hard, burning him even though he was used to it. It still made him feel something other than the guilt for a moment. He poured himself another shot and eyed the small porcelain cup before taking it down. He sat there, looking at nothing in particular.

Inara came within earshot. He could hear her long before he could see her. That fancy dress crinkled a certain way under her movements, swathed her in a sensational noise that was too faint for him to hear most the time. She didn't say anything, only sat across from him with a calm face. Always so poised and calm and in control. That was what irked him. Woman never let herself be herself. Always the Companion.

"Kaylee told me what happened."

He didn't say anything, just poured himself another drink. Inara kept her hands on the table, although they were being wrung together unsurely.

"At least she'll be okay."

He drank his shot.

"It isn't your fault, Mal."

He finally made eye contact, glaring at her through a thin fog of whiskey, "Really? 'Cause I got the impression it was when I left her there."

"You did what you had to."

"I did what she asked me to."

"If you went back for her, you'd all be worse off for it. River, you and Adalyn."

"I'd gone back for her, she might not be half-dead downstairs."

"She'll make it through this. She's strong."

"Person can only be strong for so long. Only go through so much before they give up."

Inara almost smiled, "If she's learning from you, then she's got a long time before she gives up."

He played with the cup in his hand, "Thought you weren't coming back for a few more days."

"I cancelled my appointments. I'm needed here."

"That so?"

"Mal, you don't have to pretend with me."

"Ain't that all you do? Pretend?"

"Mal…"

He stood, leaving the cup and the bottle, "Go do your job. Got no use for you here."

He wanted to be left alone, and it seemed Inara was the only one who wouldn't get that through her head. He could hear the dress shuffle as she stood, no doubt to head to her shuttle and leave. God, how he wanted her gone. He wanted her away from all this.

"Mal."

It was the closest thing to a yell she'd ever thrown his way. Just that little tone that gave all the meaning a shout or curse would. He stopped walking and turned to face her, seeing her not three paces behind him. She came closer, bearing down on him with barely controlled tears in those eyes. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, tell her it was all okay. But he couldn't. Couldn't ever get that close, that personal.

"Don't push me away because of this."

He wasn't sure if he heard her right. He scoffed, "You think it's all about you? That what this is?"

"No, that's not—"

"You've got no place sticking your nose in where it don't belong. You got your business and I got mine. We keep it that way. I almost lost a bit of my crew today and you're the one acting like you lost an arm."

"You can't protect us from everything in this universe, Mal."

"Never had a mind to."

"Yes, you do. You look at Adalyn and you see yourself. She lost her family, lost her war, and now she's all that's left. Tell me when you look at her you don't see what happened to you."

He straightened, unable to argue. It scared him. Had that been it all along? Not her brothers, not her background, but her failures that echoed so deep in him? Had her own life mirrored his? Did Inara always know?

"Mal…what happened to her was terrible. But you don't have to push me away because you're worried it will happen to me, too."

He took a step closer to her, "Don't fool yourself. Those dresses don't make you untouchable."

"I trust you."

He paused. He hadn't expected that. Hadn't thought she'd ever say those words, "_Shuh muh_?"

"I'm not a fool. I know I'm not untouchable. But I know that you would come for me. Just like you always have. You would protect me and for that I trust you."

He wanted to turn away. He couldn't bear feeling responsible for her right now. Couldn't bear the way she was staring into his eyes and making him feel so damn weak. Adalyn had looked at him that way this morning and he'd left her on the cold ground to face fate alone. They stared at each other for a long moment.

His hand cupped her cheek. He hadn't wanted it to, but it did. Without permission or will, his hand was holding her face. Her own silken hand came up to meet it, shadowing it. He loved the way that skin felt. Never a hard day's work, never a callous or scar. Softer than worn cotton and warm.

"Inara…"

He didn't know who leaned in first, and the moment he felt her honey-sweet lips he didn't care. He waited as they kissed, waited for her to reel back in shock, or denial, or anger. But another second passed and she hadn't pulled away. Her arms were wrapping around his neck, her body pressing against him.

It was better than he'd dreamed. He could feel her dress crinkle beneath his hand as he wrapped it around her waist, drawing her closer. Now it was beyond a fluke. Now it was a need. He didn't care if they got caught, didn't care that it would all go back to normal when the kiss ended. He just wanted to feel her.

They pulled away, staring at each other. He wanted to apologize, somehow knowing it had to be his fault. She would never stoop down to him. He'd pulled her from those ranks so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and he knew it was wrong.

"Inara…I didn't…I'm—"

This time he knew it was her. She used her arms to pull him down to her again. Her lips tasted sweeter than they had a moment ago and he loved it. There was nothing polite about their kiss. For a woman so in control, he could feel her let go. Feel her pulse race under his fingertips. This kiss was shorter, more intense. They stared at each other again. He tried to smile, tried to break the ice he knew was cracking under his feet.

"What are we doing?" he asked softly.

Her fingers ran down his cheek, "We're trusting each other."

Back on solid ground. He felt a smile play at the corners of his mouth unwillingly. He took his hands from her, feeling how cold the air was away from that heated skin. Space got between them again and she smiled so serenely, innocently, that he didn't mind.

"You tell me. If anything changes."

He didn't know if she was referring to Adalyn or to him, but he nodded dumbly, "I will."

"I'll be in my shuttle."

He nodded again. It hadn't been an invitation to follow, not a seductive suggestion, but just an assurance. Just enough firmness in her voice to say she was still who she was, and she was there for him. He wouldn't go there. The temptation to touch her would be too hard to control. They both knew that. But he'd kissed her and she hadn't resisted. That was all he could have right now. But it was enough.


	18. A Lost Bravery

It should've been her. That went through her head when she blasted down doors. She should've been here because it being Adalyn made things that much worse. Things were always worse when it concerned Adalyn. Always. And not worse in the worst way, but in that way that made the decisions harder, the stakes costlier, and the emotions run higher with heated blood.

Zoe knew it should've been her. Remembering very clearly why it wasn't, she squeezed her trigger again and laid another guard flat on his back with a gaping hole in his chest for the trouble. Mal never flinched. He trusted her with his life. The only thought Zoe could lay claim to, was that he shouldn't. No one should. She couldn't be trusted anymore. To unstable. Too into her grief. Which they understood and were supportive about, but which held her back all the same.

Adalyn could put aside grief and guilt. Why couldn't she? Her husband lay dead and she was responsible for it. He never would have left her if she hadn't put him in the position to die. Died saving them all. He followed her because she followed Mal. She'd questioned Mal, but she'd followed him nonetheless. And as guilty as her captain felt about Wash dying, Zoe was certain she was the one under the heel of it.

Being like that allowed Adalyn to go in her place willingly. She'd been captured because, when it boiled down to it, there was no selfish string of self within Adalyn. Save River. Save Mal. That was all that mattered and that was all she had set out to accomplish when the alarms started ringing. Shot, drugged, and hung from a ceiling, she had no qualms. And Zoe remembered that, at some point, she'd have been like that too. She would have been stoic and self-sacrificing. She would have been brave if she had someone at home who loved her. Someone who could wipe away years of blood and horror to find her true self. Wash had done that and now he was gone.

Wash had loved her and left her and the worst part was that it wasn't even his choice to leave.

Mal and Jayne were still trusting her just like they'd come to trust Adalyn. When Zoe was needed on the ship, Adalyn went in her stead. When Zoe felt her world tightening to the pain, Adalyn was always there to pick up the slack. Silently, without expecting gratitude, she went to task and became whatever it was Zoe couldn't be.

It wasn't like being replaced and Zoe had never any worry about that. Mal would never replace her. Mal would never forget her. But Mal couldn't understand this loss and maybe that was why he made no complaint that Adalyn went in Zoe's stead only twelve hours ago.

Two hours after that, Zoe could see on his face plain the grimace of regret and guilt he was wearing under the façade of casualness. Adalyn had been captured by a man known for his brutality, and all Zoe could think was that it should have been her.

When the doors opened, Zoe wasn't there. The believable excuse of covering for Mal and Jayne was enough of one to keep her from having to see Adalyn when she was in that room, hanging by her wrists. The idea of how Adalyn might look at her, if she was still alive enough to do so, frightened her beyond sane mention. It was her fault. Grieving over the past had likely cost Adalyn her future. She stood there, firing her rounds into guards who still thought there was a chance at stopping the rescue attempt.

Fire. Feel guilty. Fire again. There was no winning a battle she'd admitted to losing from moment one. Wash had gone and there was nothing she could do to change that. And the fact that she hated herself, hated who she'd become, made it worse. Adalyn had lost as much, possibly more, than Zoe would ever know. Brothers, parents, future and innocence in one fell swoop. All of it gone and yet she was the one pushing to be the sacrifice so long as it meant Mal and River and the crew were safe. It was simple, straightforward. And Zoe wondered how the younger woman could do it without seeing their faces, hearing their voices. How did she conquer the fear that Zoe found welling up every day and night?

Zoe couldn't protect the dearest person in her life. How could she protect anyone who was less dear if she'd already failed the most?

Zoe had always thought she would be the one to die first. If not for Wash, then for Mal. She thought she'd take a bullet or trade her life for them. Until now, she'd not had a doubt that she would die first and her death would be a simple, protective measure to save the men she cared for most. Only she didn't go first and she'd never gotten the chance to trade her life or take the spear. He'd left her and she'd had no say about it.

Cast in red light then, it wasn't unlike the emergency lights that had come on the moment her, Mal and Jayne stormed the house, looking for Adalyn.

Only Adalyn was covered in more than just red light. Blood, torn shreds of fabric that had once been clothes, welts and scars and gasping wounds. Nothing like the dignified woman Adalyn had been this morning. Leaning on Jayne and Mal for support, her face was too swollen to see any glance of malice or fear in her eyes. And Zoe found herself grateful that Adalyn could barely walk, let alone glare. Such a small blessing that her guilt would not be deepened by a hurtful look.

She fell and Zoe caught her. She went to her knees with the young woman on her lap. And Adalyn smiled. Bloody teeth, mouth stained red by precious life, and she smiled.

"Wash says hi," she rasped.

Zoe almost dropped her and realized her grip had tightened only after Jayne tried to heft his girl into his arms like child. She let go and watched from the floor while Jayne carried her away. Mal asked her a question and she never heard it. She didn't really care until her captain put his hand on her shoulder. She snapped her head to look around at him.

"Sir?"  
"You okay down there?"

"Fine, sir."

"She's gonna be fine, Zoe. No need to worry."

"No doubt."

He offered his hand but she refused it, getting to her feet on her own and following quickly behind Jayne, leading after a moment with her gun out to her front. She didn't care how many rounds she replugged her shotgun with; she cleared the path to get Adalyn home because she wasn't as alone as she thought she was. She had enough to get the job done, enough to get them all home, and that was more than she had a moment ago.


	19. A Lost Soul

All the verse is nothing but a playground, or so I heard once from someone beyond my time. But then, for a long time, I had no time. Hard to have time without a timetable. But the idea is the same. The idea that, no matter who or what we pretend to be, we are who we are. Not too complicated when broken down.

Adalyn's broken down. Broken down and hurt and living in the idea of who she was. I can tell that much from her. Her mind is open when she's in pain. And a part of me feels terrible because her being in pain doesn't help me stay away from mine. She's my shield and she was made to be from day one. She never asked for the job, it was just shuffled onto her. She's my filter as much as I'm hers. I can, on any day, get away from the minds of those around me, be only in hers and dig deep into it, hiding. I let her be a shield and she doesn't mind. Her mind is deep enough to let me rest there, away from the wandering thoughts of others.

But now, the shield has holes in it. It still works, but the pain gets through. And I feel terrible because I'm thinking of me while she's soaking in her own blood, delirious and injured.

The captain and Jayne thought they'd gotten to her in time. They thought they'd saved her. Even Zoe thought it. But they hadn't saved her. She couldn't be saved from it. I would never tell them that, but it was true. And Simon had done what he thought best, giving her drugs and sedatives, taking away bloodied rags that used to be clothes and replacing them with sterile weaves. But even that won't help. Again, I'll keep my silence.

If she could wake up right now, she'd see me with her eyes and not only her mind. Her mind knows I'm sitting beside her, unwilling to leave. Because, when she's in pain, there's only so much I can let her go through in her own mind. Her mind isn't disciplined when it's been pounded on. Then again, most concussions aren't exactly any brand of healthy. But Adalyn's is worse. Her mind wanders back to horrible and frigid times in ghostly white and blue rooms. Times from before I came into the picture.

They'd found her long before they found me. They'd cut on her, shaped her into a powerful assassin. But then they realized she couldn't be controlled. So they kept her drugged. Then they found me. And they knew I could keep her vapid. That's what I was really there for at first. Then they decided to make me a reader. And she and I fit together like barrels of a gun, each helping the other stay sane (or at least working). I don't mind it most times. Things have gotten better since Miranda and most days follow in the generally accepted linear sense of things.

But I don't know what I would do if they left me. If Simon or Adalyn left me. I know she doesn't care for my brother, but she tolerates him for my sake. But even that's not entirely true. Her displeasure isn't for Simon. It's for what he does. His job on the ship. Outside the reminder of pain, she'd greet him civilly, with easily gained approval and smiles. But then he acts like the doctor he is and she's gone from the room or staring him down. But I know she'll protect us. More so than anyone else. Because if she loses me, it'll be the same as if I lose her.

A flash of violation comes across her mind and, consequently, mine. It was after Simon saved me that things got worse for her. She had to be drugged more. She doesn't think I know the events before my arrival and after my escape, but she can't hide them. She can hide most things, things that are private and loving and painfully unavailable in the present. But I can help because I can push that violent memory aside and find one she might not shudder at. Just a small moment in time when her family was still together and there was a picnic.

But then another comes from a distant, pre-me moment. And if the crew knew what she was capable of, they would be rid of her. I know. I don't know everything, but I see some things Adalyn has done and is capable of doing, and I know. But she's in control now. At least more so than she used to be. I don't always know if that's enough, but I know it's a small blessing. Seeing flashes of field tests, of moments she finds in her worst nightmares, I know the others have seen nothing of what she truly can be. Just like, for a while, they never knew how dangerous I was. How I could be triggered, just like Adalyn. Perhaps having me around made them more receptive to Adalyn. Maybe that was some false security I offered them; if I'm stable and controlled, then Adalyn must be, too.

But that's not the case. Even the captain, having had her mind at his neck, doesn't have the slightest idea what she's capable of. Of what we could accomplish together. He acts as though he trusts her and mostly he does. But even he wonders if it'll come to a bullet in her brain. He would do it if she got out of line. If she hurt me or Kaylee or anyone on his ship. He's protective like that. But he wouldn't kill her just because. He's better than that. He took her in for many reasons, his own personal one being that she reminded him of a farm hand on Shadow. He might never admit to that, to himself or to her, but that's what he sees sometimes when he looks at her; a young woman back home, a first love he left behind and let go. She'd married another man before the war started and he'd been there at the wedding. Soft dresses and the false smile of happiness he put on…

That's why it was hard for the two of them to act like anything other than friends. I know what happened, and I know Adalyn knows I do. She would never try to keep anything from me. Well, at least not something like that. But she trusts me to never say anything. Never to reveal how she admires the captain for all he has done. How sometimes she thinks of the night they had together and regrets it, or doesn't, and then goes to Jayne's side in compensation. He thinks of it too, more so than she does. But they both move on and return to the normal day.

Another flash of unbound potential on a field test. She'd killed more men in that day than she has altogether since. I don't like this one. It's blurry, her memory. It's almost a filter she's put on it herself, not wanting to acknowledge what she did. I can't blame her. It's violent and harsh and bloody. And she'd killed the enemy, or at least what the Alliance perceived as the enemy. She'd been let loose into the battlefield and taken out an entire station of Independent soldiers. I know she cries about it at night. Thinking who she might've taken away from families like her own. I can't help her for that. I can only push the memory away, and find something more suitable for the moment.

There's one more recent, of her and Jayne. Heated passion with frenzied hands and the growling lust deep in her gut. I smile to think she tries to shield me from her more intimate moments with Jayne. As though it's too intense for me. But it's not. And what she hides, Jayne thinks about constantly. So, there's nothing she needs to hide from me when it comes to him. But I like that she tries.

She shivers, her body not willing to be alive. I know she gave up. But that's what she would always do. It's what she told me to do when we met at the Academy. I'd been young enough to mistake giving up with giving in. But now I understand her, and her philosophy, better. She gave up not too long after getting into the Academy, just like she gave up when Roland started hurting her. Giving up took it all away and you can look for a way out. Don't give in, because then you're their slave. But giving up makes you cockier because, honestly, what else do you have to lose? It gave her the chance to beat Roland, just like it let her get out from the Academy. I never want to be there, in that situation. Not again. I'd tried giving up, but the idea of Simon coming in on a white horse to save me was something I hid from her those three years we shared a cell. Because I didn't want her to not give up on account of me. She did well giving up.

I smile, thinking of one of the guards she managed to get the better of not too long after I'd been put in with her. It was funny now, to see Adalyn act like that. She'd been coy and coquettish, making damn well sure the guard believed her. And she'd managed to get him fired for his actions. That was only after she pummeled him half to death just for the fun of it. She'd been laid low for that trick, and it took her months to recover, but she'd been happy every moment. Just to get the better of one guard, it was enough. She had a harder time doing that trick since then. They wised up a bit; another smile when I think how the new guards were always cautioned not to go near our cell without an escort. Adalyn was that good.

But now, that trick hadn't helped her. I run a hand across her forehead, pushing some blood-matted hair off her face. I try to help her think of what had crossed my mind, knowing she would enjoy the memory of that guard's face when she started pounding on him.

The captain starts towards us. His mind was always easy to pick out. So open and visible because he is the least willing to be so. I know he asked Adalyn to keep me out of his head, and the idea of it makes me smile. Adalyn had smiled, too, only not to his face, at that request. It wasn't like she could just switch me on and off for people. Besides, it was fun talking about some of his dreams and fantasies. Whispered in the night when they're all asleep.

I look over my shoulder before he ever opens the door. He wouldn't have come in before Jayne. Jayne had come and gone; it was too hard for the mercenary to see his girl laid out like she was. I couldn't blame him. It bothered me, too. But the captain gave Jayne the chance first. Now, he'd come see to her. When his eyes meet mine, he nods. He knew I was in here, but he still doesn't think I should be. He doesn't trust the connection between our minds. That's okay. He doesn't need to.

"How is she?"

"She's hurt."

"I figured as much. I meant upstairs. How is she upstairs?"

I know he wants to hear she's fine, but she's not. If I say she's fine, he'll get it in his head that I'm lying to protect her. But if I tell him the truth, he'll distrust our minds even more, "Hard for her right now. Seeing things she doesn't want to see. Mirrors play with the dead and show the living."

He nods. His mind is screaming questions he wants to ask, but outwardly he's calm and composed, every bit the captain he's been for so long now. I admire him, much like Adalyn does. To take a bunch of people and turn them to family is something I smile at. This is our family now. Adalyn's and mine and everyone's.

"The cat wonders if the mouse blames him for the trap," I say.

He stares at me. He's weighing the answer he should give, but he nods.

I smile, "She doesn't. She never blames you anymore."

He straightens a bit. He's knows what I'm talking about; her brothers died under him, and that haunts them both. But she doesn't blame him. She hasn't for a while. He needs to know that because if he doesn't, he'll never stop blaming himself.

"She'd like it if you sat with her."

His eyes soften, blue sweetness in an angled, worn face. Running ideas through his head, not caring I hear them. He's afraid Jayne will take offense if he does. But he doesn't really care.

He sits next to me, pulling a little stool out from under the desk. I know I can leave now. I want to keep her mind safe, but him being here will help. Jayne's presence wouldn't, because he's too upset. And the mercenary won't stay where he's confronted with the pain. But the captain can endure it to be at her side.

I stand and start to leave, looking over my shoulder to see him take her hand and kiss the back of it. He thinks of her brothers. Of what she's given up and lost. He thinks about how much he's wronged her, and how much she's his angel…a fallen angel, but an angel. I smile.

He likes being able to help her. It's hard for him, not having family to speak of. He has all of us, of course, but now he has Adalyn. He can help her like Simon helped me. Be there, be loving, be soft and sturdy and everything he was never able to be to kin of his own. Their relationship is complex. She's not Zoe. She never fought with him. But he trusts Zoe differently than he trusts Adalyn.

Zoe knows where the line is between friendship and intrusion. Zoe never prods. Zoe's there when he wants to talk, or when he needs her to be. And just as Zoe would never hurt or betray him, how she's his rock, Adalyn's his cloud. And I smile to think that she's the same to me. Despite all she's been through, she's still the softest place to fall. And she always catches us. That's how she's different from Zoe or Simon. They stand with us, keep us strong. But Adalyn lets us fall, endlessly fall, and her arms are always wide to catch us and soft to hold us. I can cry to her like I can't to Simon. Mal can talk to her like he never will to Zoe.

She's not a rock. She's a cloud. And I love that she is. I don't want her any other way. Neither does Mal. So I let them sit there, knowing that even as she sleeps, she'll be a cloud. A white, puffy, unbridled cloud that no breeze can move and no rain can dampen.

Right now she's broken, but she'll be whole again. I'll help her be whole again.


	20. A Lost Mind

No one was really ready to deal with what had happened. Least of all, Adalyn. She found she could walk and keep her brain from getting most-the-way fuzzy and that had really been enough to keep her from snapping. The eggshells she'd inadvertently put around herself wherever she'd gone had started to go away and the crew was dealing with her the only way they knew how. Which, actually, wasn't what she wanted at all. She didn't want them asking her for dinner. Or for help on some job. She was still sore and some of her wounds had yet to heal. But Mal had done it anyway and now she realized that, besides making her wounds hurt, it had been a terrible mistake.

"So I guess my opinion don't count for nothing then?"

She shook her head free of the whispers from close-by crew and tried to focus on Jayne, "What? I don't…what makes you say that?"

"He asks, you go running, huh?"

Whispers got louder and she didn't like what they were thinking, talking, about her, "What? The drop?"

"Look at you, Adalyn. You can't even…can't even barely keep your eyes on me and you're going out to fight for him."

_She's not well enough to be doing for us yet, sir_, "I'm well enough…just need to know where to point the gun."

"What's so damn important about Mal that you gotta go off and save his ass when you can't even sit on your'n without flinching? Huh? You tell me why you went out there today."

_Woman knows her limits; worst thing we can do is treat her different. She'll back down if she feels the need, you know that same as me_, "Can't back down, don't you get it? No limits!"

He was glaring at her and his whisper was more than everyone else's. Just an angry, unspoken trail of confusion that her brain couldn't wrap itself around.

"Yeah there are limits!" _you gotta be seeing how weak you are_, "I ask you t'stay safe and you go off the first thing Mal asks for!"_ and he's never wanted to see you like this; never seen you but when he's crossing lines_, "You got the right to choose and if'n you're choosing him over me I need to know now."

_She's not capable of making that decision, Captain. Her brain is still healing from what Roland did to her, forget that her mental capacity to deal with any of this is severely altered_, "Can't choose…"

She saw the look that crossed over his face. She didn't know why he wasn't understanding what she was saying, why he looked so hurt and betrayed and she sure as hell didn't know who could make him understand.

_Shouldn't've expected even this much_, "That's how you want it, then I'll choose for you. You want him t'be running your life? Good. Hope it works out great for you." _Girl was never in love with me anyhow. Got what she wanted…_

She held her head, trying to shut it out to no avail, "No, I…I want more, Jayne."

He was walking away and his angry voice and whispers hurt her, "Go get it, then, 'cause you can't be wanting it from me."

_But she'll be okay right? _

_She's getting there. _

_Her brain will heal itself? _

_In time, yes, but until then she's still not well enough to be leaving the ship, let alone running gunhand on a drop. _

_If she wasn't up for it, she'd've been left here; she's tougher than y'all giving her credit for. _

_There's a difference between tough and incapable of saying no. _

_Girl's best off going to him. He's the one she went to first anyhow. _

_They'll fade away, and you'll be peaceful again. Things take time to heal._

* * *

One day was all it took for Mal to realize that things had gone horribly wrong on his ship. Just when he thought they couldn't get worse, they did. Like something out of some bad screenpic he'd seen when he was young.

The job had started it all. Adalyn had done what he'd asked her to do and now she was mumbling around the ship, more worrisome than she'd been before he'd taken her out. Jayne was skulking in his room and leaving everyone, including Addy, alone. Kaylee and Simon were tense because Adalyn was mumbly and River was having more breakdowns in the midst of it all. Zoe was tight-as-a-trigger and he couldn't say he wasn't, either. He'd tried to ask Jayne what had happened and the merc wouldn't look at him, let alone give him the time of day. River had screamed her head off all night and as much as Mal appreciated that she was the pilot and deserved a real bunk, he hated that she was right next door to him in Kaylee's old room. Doc had spent most the night sedating her and redosing her 'cause nothing was working. Much as that troubled him, he knew Adalyn was the center of everything. Not her fault that she was, but she was nonetheless. And the fact she'd pulled a gun on everyone earlier didn't help matters either.

He walked into the kitchen and she was standing over the stove, staring into an empty pot. He knew it was empty 'cause smoke was coming from it and not the good kind, neither. He quickly tapped off the burner and lifted the scorched pot from it. Adalyn glared at him and he found that even the handle was too hot to be touched. He let it drop to the deck and shook his hands from pain.

The pain came when she tackled him. For all she'd been hit on, she was still bestially strong when it came for it. He threw her off and got to all fours. She was quicker, even deranged as she was, and grabbed the pot. He could smell her palms burning.

"Addy, let the pot go!"

She swung it at him, "Don't go touching mother's soup!"

He threw his weight back and landed on his rear while he scrambled to get away from the burning hot pot. Kaylee came in too, her face full of grease, and stayed in the doorway.

Zoe ran in and she ducked the swinging pot before slamming the butt of her gun on Adalyn's temple. Simon was in the other doorway, watching. But when Mal thought the girl would go down, she didn't. She screamed, dropping the pot and clutching her hands to her chest. The pain had finally kicked in. Grateful and worried all in one, he stood, approaching her. She looked at them all and shook her head. Tears were running down her face and she fell to her rear, pressing herself into a corner and hiding from them, cowering like a beaten child.

"Addy?" he asked.

"Did you have to hit her?" Simon looked scathingly at Zoe.

Mal looked 'round to see Jayne come in. He was drenched, like he'd been down in the showers, and only a towel was wrapped at his waist. He looked at Adalyn and Mal found himself angry at all hell when the man did nothing, tried nothing.

"What set her off this time?" Zoe asked, exasperated.

Simon was trying to get close to her but every time he inched she wailed, curling tighter and crying harder. River was the only one gone from the commotion.

"Adalyn…calm down," Simon tried to soothe her.

She was shivering, shaking, and she started pounding her head against the cabinet doors. That Simon couldn't deal with. He reached out and tried to steady her.

He was thrown against the wall on the other side of the room. Kaylee ran to his side. Adalyn having never touched him, he shook his head from the hit and Mal hoped he wasn't in need of doctoring himself.

"Can't touch her!" Jayne scolded him.

"You got any other bright ideas, genius?" Simon snapped back from the floor, hand on the back of his head.

"Just everybody calm down," Kaylee cooed.

Adalyn quickly stood and looked around at everyone. Mal found he wasn't the only one who reached for a weapon. Zoe had her gun back out and Mal's service pistol was tucked to his thigh, aimed out at her.

She looked sane, looking at her burnt palms, "What happened?"

Zoe relaxed a little, "You snapped."

Adalyn nodded, "Oh."

It was instant. She dropped to the floor like a sack and Mal wondered idly if it had taken that long for the hit to her temple to register. Simon was, amazingly, the first one to her side and he and Zoe lifted her. Mal could see boy wince and had no doubt his sweet Kaylee would be tending to the bruises before long. Following the path the others had taken, he idly looked at the clock over the kitchen stove knowing that being late for the upcoming drop would only make things harder for him and his.


	21. Lost Grip

There was something off in those eyes as she walked into the kitchen. Jayne stood and started to her side. She pulled away, a soft and weak smile on her face. He didn't touch her, didn't steady her as she braced herself on the doorway. Her wounds were still healing, her scars still there. It had only been four days since they'd helped walk her out of Roland's torture room. She'd been quiet, her wounds and brain still heavy.

"Adalyn? Good to see you up and about," Mal watched her, looking once at Simon who was obviously not pleased she was so.

She nodded slowly, her eyes on the table and the chair she was moving into. It took everything for her sit without flinching. The room was quiet for a moment before Kaylee smiled.

"Did you want something to eat? We've got tons of goodies."

Adalyn was silent, her eyes delving into the table. Kaylee waited, wanting Adalyn to spring up and become the person she'd been a week ago.

River moved from her chair, leaning into Adalyn. She stared at her for a moment. Adalyn's face turned to look at her, dull and dumb and barely cognizant. Then her eyes turned to Kaylee.

"No. Thank you."

"Was there something you needed?" Simon asked slowly.

"I lost it."

Simon shifted, the answer not one he expected, "Excuse me?"

"I put my…my…" she just trailed off.

They watched her for a moment. Then her eyes refocused and she looked around the table, finding Mal. Her eyes were wide, alarmed; she wasn't the steely woman he'd known before, not now that she'd been hurt so terribly.

"What happened?"

Mal leaned in, "You came up to the kitchen."

"No, before. What happened?"

"Before what?"

"I'm not the woman you knew before."

He straightened. Adalyn couldn't read minds, he remembered that being a nice little bullet point in the works. But she'd just blown right past that idea. He stared at her.

"Adalyn…"

"The cards were wrong," she winced, looking to River, "Why were they wrong?"

She shook her head, answered her own question, "No, not wrong. There's right and there's wrong. But the meanings keep changing."

Simon was looking nervously from Adalyn to River as his sister only stared at her. Mal couldn't find much reason for the doctor to not be nervous. He found his own heart thumping louder, making his ears pound as they digested the babble she was rambling out. He didn't want to sedate her, but he wasn't sure how insane she could get. He didn't know if this would fade quick or if he would be forced to put her to sleep.

She jolted back from the table, glaring at him, "No! No sleeping. No drugs no medicine no nothing."

He stood with her, noticing that his hand had quickly strayed to the top of his gun before he caught himself, pulling it down and away, "No one's doing anything. You just need to calm down."

She stared at him. He saw some blood on her shirt. She'd popped stitches. He wanted to help her and he found himself helpless as to how he could go about it. She looked at each of them in turn, wincing and refocusing her gaze more than once. She seemed too afraid, like a scared child in a room of strangers. That very look on her face made him want to hold her, protect her from whatever it was she was dealing with.

"Not sick, not an invalid and there's no reason to get emotional!" she hissed, looking between Simon, Kaylee and him.

"Adalyn, you hurt yourself. You need to let me fix it," Simon stood slowly, walking around the table to her.

"No!" She jumped away, hands blocking him in a frenzy, "No dirty hands in clean gloves!"

She started for the door. Mal didn't want to give the order, but he did, "Stop her."

Jayne was out of his seat before he'd finished those two words. He caught Adalyn up by her arms, holding her back against his chest. Mal had never seen the mercenary act so gentle, even restraining her. Jayne's face was pressed against her cheek, his hands keeping her arms from moving much as they were kept tight against her front. He whispered to her, soft things the others weren't supposed to hear. Mal couldn't hear. But Adalyn stopped trying to struggle free, stopped being erratically possessed. She leaned her head onto his shoulder, letting him coddle her.

"We're gonna get you fixed up," Jayne said smoothly, "Okay?"

Her eyes were still wild, "No dirty hands."

"No. Nothing dirty. You gonna play nice?"

She nodded coherently, her eyes calming and her lids drooping. He let her go and she slowly registered her wound, touching the flow of blood that was staining her shirt. She rubbed the blood between her fingers before looking to Mal.

"I'm broken."

She fell. Jayne caught her before she hit the floor. Simon rushed over, kneeling at her side and holding her lolling head in his hands. Jayne looked to him.

"She okay?"

"Just get her to the infirmary. She'll be fine."

Jayne picked her up gently, carrying her to the stairs and disappearing out of view. Simon looked to Mal for a moment, giving that unspoken communication that it was more serious than he wished to say in front of everyone, before following the mercenary. Kaylee followed him out.

"You think she's okay?" Zoe asked.

"Doc's doing his job."

"What do you think got into her?"

"Might've been nothing. Just a little reminder of being hit one too many times."

"She's out of sequence," River said factually.

They both stared at her. Her eyes remained on the path her brother had taken.

"She gave up to survive. And flying home is hard without navigation. Birds need the poles."

Mal shivered to think that was how Adalyn had hung there, arms stretched out over her head and suspended from the poles Roland had the foresight to have. River shrugged and started for the infirmary, her face unconcerned and content.

Zoe sighed, "Sir, it might be best if we restrain her."

"Ain't that serious yet. She can't do no damage. Her head's still on the fritz."

"She's obviously not in control of herself. And I don't like the idea of her having access to that gun trunk in her room, or anything sharp, for that matter."

"I see no need to truss her up yet. Not unless we have to."

"Of course."

That was all he needed, that small acknowledgement that Zoe still trusted him. Even though he didn't always trust himself, he knew she did. And that was enough when the path wasn't clear for him. He wanted to be sure they were all safe, but he was falling on Adalyn's side when he thought about what she could do. She wouldn't hurt them. She wasn't that far gone.

* * *

Kaylee came running into the kitchen from the cargo bay stairs. Mal watched everyone bristle a little, knowing their conversation hadn't been the most polite or hopeful. But he saw Kaylee's worried face, trembling hands. Simon was the first to his feet.

"What's wrong?"

"Adalyn's got a gun. In the cargo bay."

They all stayed quiet, no one really sure if the implications were there or not. But Mal knew better than to wait and find out, "Doc, you get something to dose her. Jayne, Zoe, guns and don't shoot unless you have to."

"She ain't a threat, Mal."

"Do it!"

He passed Kaylee with his hand on his holster, not wanting to believe that Adalyn had the gun for any reason in particular.

* * *

She was just standing there. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly agape. She looked for all the verse like she was about to cry. Mal watched her as she grasped the gun. It was pointed down, not at any of them, but he still didn't like her having it. She was fixated on something none of them could see. Then those eyes turned to him. He waited, unsure if she was looking for salvation or a target.

"Adalyn? Can you put the gun down?"

She aimed at him. He heard the other guns in the cargo bay hiss and whine as they came to life. He spared a look to Zoe and shook his head. He looked back to Adalyn, "Put the gun down, Adalyn. You don't wanna shoot anyone."

Her jaw worked and tears started to come from her eyes. Her hand was shaking, her finger away from the trigger but still uncomfortably close. She just stared at him.

With his hands out and palms facing her, trying to keep her calm, he walked closer. She twitched her hand, her jaw clenched and the barrel of the gun staring him in the eyes. He stopped and nodded.

"Okay, not coming closer. See? But you have to put the gun down so we can help you. You're hurt, remember?"

"Get out."

He paused, unsure of what exactly she meant or wanted, "Adalyn…just put the gun down."

"Get out!"

"Of where? What do you want, Adalyn?"

Her eyes welled up and more tears trailed down her cheeks, "You can't be in here."

"I'm not anywhere. I need you to put down the gun."

"You don't get to do this. You don't get to play with my mind. I won't go back there."

"No one's going to hurt you if you put that gun down."

"No! No. No, you don't get to be in here."

"Adalyn…" River stepped closer.

Adalyn looked to her, her tears and frustrated face painful for Mal to see. But she kept the gun aimed at him while looking to River.

"River…why are they all in here?"

"You're sick. But it'll stop."

She winced, her jaw clenching again. Her white-knuckle grip on the gun tightened. He could still stare down the barrel of it. He looked to River as she went closer to Adalyn.

"They're not supposed to be in here! Not me! Not my mind!"

"I know. But it'll get better. It'll go away, I promise."

She turned her angry and tearful glare back on him, "No! No, I'll stop it."

"Killing them won't make it go away."

She nodded, "Yes, it will. I'll make it go away. I'll make it stop."

"Adalyn, give me the gun," River cooed.

"They're all inside. It's not a playground, not some sandbox to dig into!"

"I know. They'll stop soon. I promise."

"River…make them all stop."

Mal watched Adalyn's grip loosen and her rigid arm go slack, the gun starting to drift down to the ground. River walked in and looked up at her, taking the gun without a fight. Mal moved in and River handed him the gun. He still had no idea why Adalyn had gone off. Why she'd found it necessary to pick up a gun. But River had calmed her.

River slowly pressed an injector to Adalyn's arm. She pressed the button. Adalyn watched apathetically. Their eyes met. River smiled softly.

"I'll make it stop."

Adalyn swayed a bit. She fell forward. Mal caught her as she drifted off. Jayne rushed over from his position on the stairs. River stood there over them, watching Adalyn.

* * *

She was pale, shivering. Not at all like the strong and resilient woman he'd seen refuse medical treatment before. But now, she had no choice. Now, she was worse. The swelling on her brain hadn't gone down. She was ill, some of the wounds infected and her internal injuries causing her more pain than he imagined she'd let on to. It had only been a week…he didn't expect her to be perfect, but seeing her like this…

Mal stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, "How is she?"

He looked up from her dilated eyes, "The concussion is the problem. The brain's swollen. It's disrupting many of her basic functions."

"That why she go wonky?"

"It is. She's fighting off an infection. Giving her antibiotics at this point will only draw it out. Between the fever and the swelling, her brain's unable to heal properly."

"How bad?"

"The swelling's going down, but the infection could take another week to be naturally eradicated."

"And the crazy talk?"

"River explained it to me. Adalyn was given a subliminal filter to block out my sister's psychic abilities. Normally, that filter keeps out daily information. Random information, feelings. But, without the filter, Adalyn's experiencing everything River does."

"No filter."

"No filter. Which means every thought River hears from us, Adalyn is hearing, too. It's likely that's what she meant when she told you to get out. She's not used to having our thoughts in her mind. Only River's."

Mal sighed, "Can you help her here or do we need to take her somewhere else?"

"Nothing can help her right now. I've given her pain medication, but the swelling and the infection will need to heal on their own."

"I thought she was on the mend."

"She was. The hit today probably exacerbated her condition. Made the head trauma worse. And until now she never let on about any discomfort she was experiencing."

"I thought you were keeping tabs on her."

"She's not easy to keep tabs on, Captain. She makes you look like the ideal patient."

She stirred before Mal could say anything about that. Simon leaned in.

"Adalyn? Can you hear me?"

She lunged. Her hands went around his throat and her strong legs pushed her forward. She rammed him into the counter, pushing him up high enough so as to get his feet off the ground. Her face was twisted in a feral snarl. Mal tried to grab her arms. Simon gasped for air while his hands tried to loose her grip on his neck.

She threw an elbow up into Mal's nose. He cursed, swearing she'd broken it. His eyes watered and he tried to reach for her again. He wrapped his hands around her arms, trying to pull her off Simon. But she was steadfast. She took one hand from the doctor's neck to elbow him in the sternum. He doubled over. Jayne rushed in after he backed off in pain. The larger man held her by the wrists, still unable to break her grip on Simon's neck. Ignoring the pain, he reached for the sedative River had used before. He loaded it while Adalyn kept her strong hands on Simon's neck and Jayne kept his grip on her.

He pressed the injector to her neck. Her grip loosened. It took a moment, but she wavered, falling. Jayne caught her and let her down gently onto the deck. Kaylee ran in. Mal hadn't noticed her until now. She went to Simon's side and braced him when he coughed. Adalyn's head rolled as Jayne took his hands out from under her.

Mal looked up at Simon and Kaylee. He caught sight of River. She looked more tired than concerned.


	22. A Lost Confidence

Simon cursed under his breath. He hated being held at gunpoint for many reasons, the most obvious the fact that it happened too often for his likes. Oh, and the bullet that could impale him was a reason, too. But, at the moment, he thought the way Adalyn was acting was the most disturbing reason.

She was facing down the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun with tired, bored green eyes. Her hands weren't even up; she just lingered there, watching the men aim guns. She was everything the Alliance had trained her to be at the moment.

There was no one else that could help them. They'd all gone off to do the job or attend the market. But Adalyn had stayed behind because of her injuries and he'd insisted on watching her. She was still broken. Still not one-hundred percent. He wondered if the concussion had permanently changed her. Or if the whole experience would be responsible for that. He hadn't bridged that question. Mal had, and she withdrew. Jayne had, and she'd barely acknowledged him. The man she most respected and the man she loved were both turned silent by her character.

But at the moment, she was all he had to work with. He could still see bandages on her body. Her wrists were still wrapped; the skin had started to grow back but he knew the scars would be permanent. She was next to him, her calculating eyes still emotionless. The man smiled at her, the gun waiting for a target.

"You gonna give us what due us."

She shrugged, "Captain isn't here. Why don't you come back when he is."

"Not in the mood to wait. Give us the money."

"Couldn't find it even if you wanted to. Or, if I wanted to, case in point."

The man pumped the gun and it started to whine, ammunition heating up and the barrel still staring her in the face. They were five of them. They'd come looking for Captain Reynolds. But, finding just the two of them, they'd been happier. Simon spared a glance at Adalyn, knowing she was trying to figure out a way to get them out of this.

He remembered River saying something one night; something random that he'd never really thought about: hope will save you when there's nothing else to. He'd thought his sister meant the virtue. The idea of hope. Not the dignified, powerful woman standing next to him. Hope was the woman Adalyn had been before the Academy got a hold of her. He might've trusted Hope. He trusted Adalyn only to a certain extent. She'd made her feelings for his profession quite clear.

She was a divided woman. He knew that now. Only she'd divided him, too. He was either Simon Tam or a doctor. Never both. Inside that infirmary, he was the enemy. She hated him in that blue and sterile room. Dismissed his opinion. Looked at him with suspicious eyes. Occasionally, she would try and choke him. But outside that room, he was River's older brother. Someone she cared about because River did. That was enough for her. Enough of a reason to protect someone. If River thought it, Adalyn usually agreed. Out here, he was Simon. Out here, he was her acquaintance. That split personality she forced on him had turned him off from her. He didn't like her appraisal of him. And the bruises around his neck still made him self-conscious.

"You gonna give us that money, or I'll blow your brains out the back of your head."

Still unflustered. He found himself jealous at that strength she had. Never flustered, "You do that and you still won't find the money."

"But it'll be funny."

"Still not gonna help you."

He smiled, "Too bad."

He raised the gun, preparing to shoot. Simon felt his heart skip a beat. Like so many moments before, he felt in his gut that this would be the end of someone. He'd saved her once, and he was proud for that accomplishment, but this blow would kill her. This would end the one person who could do the most to protect him and his sister. Jayne would be angry. Captain Reynolds would go looking for revenge; likely Jayne would be at his side. River would mourn her and so would Kaylee. Zoe would take it in stride, like she did with everything. And he would be the one to watch her die.

She kicked the gun from his hand. It went off and Simon could feel the shot go over his head innocently. The gun sailed beyond them both. Simon turned back to watch Adalyn.

She'd taken the man's gun hand in hers, keeping him off balance as she kicked once, brought her foot to the ground for more energy, and sprung it back up to land on the temple of the shooter. She spun, keeping the man's hand in hers. She threw an elbow onto his outstretched arm and it cracked. He screamed. Behind him, she threw another kick. This was to his neck. That snapped, too. Simon watched him fall down like a broken toy. His neck was oddly bent and his eyes were wide with the pain she'd exerted on him.

The next man had only now begun to reach for his gun; Adalyn had moved too fast. He had made the mistake of being awed by her when she was about to kill them all. She threw one punch and it glanced off his cheek. She ducked from his sloppy blow and leaned forward, putting both her hands to the deck. She stood on her hands, her feet coming around to plant firmly on his neck while she arched. He went backwards. Her feet kept coming forward and she let her hands off the ground. She stood, stomping down with one foot to crack the man's windpipe.

A bullet grazed by her arm. She ignored it and spun around to land a single kick to the next man who'd shot her. He stumbled sideways and she quickly lashed out with a backhanded fist. He fell backwards. She grabbed his gun as he went, aiming it at his head. He'd only just hit the ground when she fired one round, the bullet lodged in the forehead.

Simon felt the doctor kick in as blood drained from her upper arm where she'd been grazed. He winced when another shot clipped her leg. But she was still determined. She aimed the gun she'd taken at the next idiot as he stared, stupefied at her quick and venerable disposal. The bullet hit him in the eye. Simon knew he was dead the moment the gun had been fired. Adalyn never missed.

He felt the cold steel of a gun slam down into his forehead. Falling to the deck, he was yanked back to his feet to stare at Adalyn. The last man had a gun to his temple, one hand wrapped securely around his neck. He choked, feeling a rush of fresh blood run down into his eye. He blinked, seeing a half-clear, half-red-and-blurry version of Adalyn standing not fifteen feet away. Her gun was aimed at him; only he knew she wasn't aiming at him. She was aiming at the man who'd taken him as cover.

Her face was still too calm. Too collected. But her eyes betrayed her. There was panic there.

"Drop it!" the man's voice echoed in his ears.

Her jaw worked for a moment. The gun pointed at his head whined and warmed for a shot. Simon waited for her to take the shot. No doubt she could do it. No doubt she wouldn't hesitate. She'd taken harder shots without ever missing or thinking twice.

She lowered her gun.

He gaped at her, "Adalyn!"

"Drop it!"

She let the gun fall from her hand. She stood there, unarmed and defenseless. Simon could only watch as the man aimed for her, taking the gun away from his own temple. Adalyn didn't seem to care. Her eyes had calmed. She didn't care that she was now about to be shot. Only that he wasn't in harm's way. And he saw contentment in her eyes. He saw the trigger finger go tight.

He threw his elbow up into the man's neck. The gun went off. Simon didn't want to look. He threw a punch and the man fell to the ground. Simon yanked the gun from his hand, slamming it down once on the man's temple. His head rolled and his eyes closed. He wasn't dead but Simon wished suddenly he'd brought the gun down harder.

He turned to see Adalyn.

Blood was draining from a new, fresh gunshot wound in her upper shoulder. Her right shoulder. Her eyes met his and for a moment, he saw nothing behind them. Then the pain set in. But she didn't falter. She leaned over to pick up the gun she'd dropped. She aimed.

The man at Simon's feet shuddered as a bullet tore through his throat. She fired again and the next shot went into the forehead. Simon looked back to her. She dropped the gun.

"Always kill 'em. Don't leave room for another attack," she instructed, as if this had all been some lesson he needed to learn.

She was still blank.

She fell to her knees. He rushed over, dropping the gun he'd used. Her face went paler than it usually was. The blood rushing from her three wounds was cause for alarm. He tried to act like Simon. Not like the doctor she hated.

"Adalyn?"

She looked at him with pain-glazed eyes, "Help me up."

She braced an arm over his, helping bring her to her feet. She was unsteady. The bullet that clipped her left leg made it hard for her to walk without his help. He led her slowly out of the cargo bay to the common. He sat her down on the couch, knowing enough to stop there. She propped her leg up on the table. Blood dripped down to the carpet. The blood from her shoulder and arm started to stain the couch.

"I'll have to get the extractor."

She grimaced, "No need. Bullet went straight through."

He paused. He looked around to her backside to see the exit wound. Her calf was the same. There were no bullets. Only wounds. He nodded, walked into the infirmary and got the stitching kit and weaves from his drawer, absentmindedly wiping blood from his forehead. He turned around to see Adalyn there. He gaped, paused.

She never willingly set foot in the infirmary. Not when she was conscious. The pain of the Academy's scalpels and tests had held her back. Suddenly, she was here, in his domain. He could remember twice she was here. Once when she'd been shot by a stray bullet in the chest. She died on his exam table and he'd brought her back to life; the other was after her concussion was exacerbated by a new hit to the head, making her a bit crazier than they'd liked. She'd woken up in the infirmary and tried to strangle him out of pure fear and hate of the blue room.

But now she was in, over the threshold. Without a word, she sat on the exam table, propping her leg up for him to work on. He didn't want to move lest she decide to strangle him, or run, or do something only she would do. Like a cornered animal; that was how he had to treat her. She wasn't meeting his gaze. She couldn't; that much he knew and understood. The moment she looked him in the eyes, she would draw back and leave.

He stitched her up. Wound by wound, stitch by stitch, she was mended. Her eyes stayed away from him the whole time. They didn't say a word. They didn't try to talk about what had happened. Being closer to the supplies and having the adequate light made it easier for him. He was done quicker. He watched her. She was tense. Her white-knuckle grip on the edge of the exam table hadn't lessened. He'd had to push her back a bit to work on her shoulder wound. And she was stiff as a board. Barely there.

The snap of his glove coming off made her head turn towards him. She slid from the exam table slowly, favoring her healthy leg. He cleared his throat. The sound made her wince.

"Do you want something for the pain?"

She shook her head, "No."

"It's best if you rest. Not everything's healed up from last time."

"I know."

"Do you want anything?"

She finally looked him in the eyes. She was trying to think of it. He could see the wheels turning in her head, "You're still bleeding."

He wiped consciously at the steady and slow trail of blood that had now crept down his neck from his forehead and was staining his shirt. He nodded.

"I'll be okay."

She reached behind him and took a cloth from the counter. Before he could stop her, she dabbed at the wound. She cleaned it for him. He smiled.

"You don't have to. I am a—"

Their eyes met. He didn't know if he should say it. If just saying it would spook her enough to make sure she never came into the infirmary again. She looked back to his wound. He didn't say the word.

"I can take care of it."

She put a small weave over it, sealing it for him. He hated the fact that she didn't have to look up to do it. Hated in an annoyed way that she was the same height as him. She put the supplies away and started to walk out, limping. He watched her go.

What had made her come in? The puzzle of it was something he would ask at a later time. When she wasn't riddled with holes and still mending from a vicious torture session. When her mind wasn't on the pain. He stood in the doorway, watching her walk to her room.

Of all the shots she'd taken and done the job for, Simon suddenly felt the most grateful for the one she hadn't.


	23. A Lost Passion

A fight always got them riled up. Got blood pumping, fingers itching to take hold of something, body ready to go. Wasn't too much different than grappling in that way. Which was maybe why he and Adalyn always got along better after a tousle in some run-down joint or another. Usually they'd been fighting for their lives, back to back, and getting home to the ship was always a jumble because the moment they got in any kind of private spot, clothes would be shucked and they would finish off the adrenaline high.

This time Adalyn hadn't been there. It had just been he and Mal and Zoe and so Jayne had been anticipating a tumble that she wasn't on the brainwave of. Adalyn hadn't been in on a fight in over a month and Jayne had.

Whether physical or not, he always knew where to find her. She gasped when he pushed her against the wall of the bathroom, his hands hard against her arms and pinning her to the bulkhead. She was still in her clothes, the shower running and letting precious hot water steam up the room. Half of her brain begged for the oncoming train wreck while the other half winced and recoiled, her primal instinct of survival surfacing when his massive hand snaked around her neck, holding her hostage to his bruising kiss. She could remember a time when this was how she liked it. When rough and bruising was what she wanted from him. She tasted blood and felt it well up in her mouth. He'd half-heartedly bit her lip and she let out a stifled yelp when his hand reached between their bodies to cup her beneath her shirt.

She tried to ignore the panic in her heartbeat. This was how it'd been for so long. Rough, demanding, but he'd never grabbed her so tight around her neck. Or maybe he had and she'd just never reacted to it because she hadn't been tortured. His thumb was over her windpipe, his body crushing hers against the bulkhead and opening dormant wounds that still had a ways to heal. She felt a tear run down her cheek. His kiss was harsh, dominating and something primal. Even if she hadn't heard the curses from Mal above, she'd known they'd gotten into a fight at the drop.

He slid down with her to the floor, slick with the shower's humidity. His one hand was still around her throat and her hand grabbed his wrist of its own volition, silently pleading for release. His mouth was still pressed against hers, his tongue forcing hers back. He was straddling her, his free hand tearing her shirt open down the front, buttons clinking against the hard floor. They'd gotten past this point before: Jayne knew his limits but usually she fought right back, thwarting his advances until it became a game. Her mind raced with the idea that, if she wasn't fighting back, he wouldn't see the sign to let up. His grip on her throat tightened. Her mind fogged over, her vision going blurry-gray at the corners.

She'd liked it this way. Not even two months ago, this was normal. But the tear she felt was followed by another draining down towards her ear. With his one hand around her neck and the other roaming down to the fly of her pants, she whimpered into his mouth, unable to pull away from his kiss and unable to pull in the air to do more.

His hand got behind stiff cotton, reaching. She bucked her hips, panic making her heart pound in her ears until she was deaf. Her ears were pooling with salty tears.

He finally stopped kissing her and pulled away, frozen.

Her eyes were clenched shut and the moment he took his hand off her throat, she gasped and her arms sprang up to be a shield between him and her. Her chest heaved up and down and the wet trails of tears leading down to her ears finally stopped. Wounds had opened, blood staining her shirt.

He just stared at her.

He threw himself off her, sitting in a puddle of water that she shower had left. She couldn't move for a moment, her body still caught in the uproar of being manhandled again.

"Adalyn?"

She sat up a bit, one hand over her sore throat while the other stayed defensively at her front, gathering the sides of her tattered shirt to close them together. Against the wall, she couldn't look at him. She didn't want to. His face…guilt was written all over it and she started to cry thinking that he had nothing to be guilty about.

It was her fault for being so weak. Her fault for letting the thoughts of that room creep in when all Jayne wanted was what she'd willingly offered in the past. She curled her knees up to her chest and buried her face against the cold metal.

"Please, just leave," she whispered.

She couldn't bear the thought of seeing him while she was reliving that nightmare. He'd saved her from it a whole five weeks ago. Why then did it still feel so fresh in her mind that she couldn't even let him touch her like he had before? She caught a sob as it tried to claw its way out of her lungs.

"My god…"

They both looked up because neither of them had said anything.

Simon stood over them, that same horrified look on his face that Jayne wore. The doctor looked between them, Adalyn hiding her face and clenching her shirt tighter.

"Get out," she begged, her voice quivering even to her own ears.

Jayne stood slowly, his breath just as shallow as hers. Simon looked at him before looking back at her. She felt her tears start running again when Jayne finally walked out, leaving her there to the cooling clinks of shower water.

* * *

Simon told himself he wouldn't ever get between Jayne and Adalyn again. More out of fear of Adalyn's fist than anything else. He'd only gone to the showers because River had started pitching a fit, begging him to save Adalyn. In the wake of being tortured, he wasn't sure what Adalyn would or wouldn't do to herself. He'd been prepared to see bloody self-inflicted wounds typical of someone who'd gone through what she did. He hadn't been prepared to see Jayne wet and struck with pure guilt etched over his face, terror and shame staining Adalyn to the core. He hadn't wanted to see tears on Adalyn's face. Her flannel shirt had been ripped aside and her wounds were open.

He punched Jayne.

His brain caught up with his fist and felt the sting, quickly calculated just how much of a lead he would need to escape the larger man. He stood stock still, waiting for the retaliation on the mercenary's part.

Jayne stumbled, caught onto the side of the exam table, but didn't go down or glare a threat. Simon stared at him, waiting.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked, his voice clipped.

Jayne shook his head, "Didn't."

"Didn't what?"

"Think. Done it before, never been a problem. Ain't…ain't like it was the first time…"

Simon couldn't say anything for a moment, his brain finding some logic in Jayne's muttering words, "She was tortured. You don't just assume she can handle…it…rough. Are you a complete idiot?"

"Guess so. It'd be gettin' better. She…"

"You probably traumatized her! She was in that room for almost two days. A month isn't enough time to heal on any level. I've turned a blind eye to you and she resuming everything like it were normal, but she's far from fine. I'd hoped you were smart enough for me not to have to spell it out to you but clearly I was wrong!"

"You think I done this to her on purpose?"

"I think you weren't thinking of her at all! You're lucky she didn't kill you."

Jayne's brow furrowed and he looked at Simon, "Why didn't she?"

Simon blinked, "_Shen ma_?"

"Why didn't she just throw me off? Seen her do it before. Throw folk off if she got pinned. Bigger'n me, made no difference. Why not just throw me off?"

Simon sighed, "I don't know. Maybe she realized it was you. Or maybe she's just that far gone…where she can't defend herself."

The possibility made Jayne's eyes turn inward, his gaze down at the floor. He walked out of the infirmary, slipping by River when he left. Simon sighed, watching him go. His sister walked in, her face echoing the sadness that Jayne undoubtedly felt.

"Wasn't why."

"Wasn't why what?" Simon asked.

"That wasn't why she didn't throw him off."

"Then why?"

"Because she loves him. Thinks its her fault. Wants him to be happy."

Simon's brow furrowed, his heart sinking with every word his sister said, "You mean…she didn't throw him off…because she felt guilty about being afraid?"

River nodded, "Every action has an equal, opposite reaction. He fights, she fights back. He pushes, she pushes back."

"She couldn't fight back. And he just kept pushing."

"She doesn't like being broken," River sniffled.

Simon watched his sister fight off tears.

Mal stormed in, "Who's using all my water?"

It took a moment for Simon to realize what the captain was asking, "I don't know…"

"Well its someone down here 'cause I can't get a drop outta the kitchen."

"I think Adalyn's in the shower."

Mal cursed under his breath, "Damn that girl," he started to march off.

Simon took a step after him, "Captain…"

Mal turned to face him.

He swallowed down the nervousness, "I don't think you should disturb her. She's…she's having a bad day."

The anger ebbed away as quickly as it could and Mal straightened, "What kind of bad day?"

"I think she's just trying to sort things out."

"How much longer is this gonna last, Doc?"

Simon wanted to say that it would last as long as Adalyn needed it to, or as long as everyone didn't think it should, but instead he just shrugged, "I don't know. But in my…professional opinion, she's doing better than most would."

Mal nodded, "Guess you're right. See if, when she comes out, you can't remind her that the rest of this boat needs water, too."

Simon nodded. Mal walked off, offering a stray glance at River's downcast face. Whether he really noticed the tears or not, he walked on, back up the stairs. Simon sighed and walked from the infirmary to the showers. The steam had long since evaporated, the water running cold.

"Adalyn?" he asked gently.

She wasn't answering. He wasn't the least bit surprised.

"Adalyn, it's not your fault. Whatever Jayne…it's just not your fault, okay?"

There was nothing on the other side of the curtain. He swallowed, knowing that, if she was behind there, she wouldn't be so still about him mentioning Jayne at all. She was private and even more so after all that had happened.

He gently started to slide back the curtain and when nothing stopped him, he sighed again and pulled it fully aside.

She'd left the water running and had left the showers all together. He rolled up his sleeve and reached in, turning off the water. He shook off the droplets from his arm before leaving the showers. Wherever she was now, at least the captain would get his water upstairs.


	24. Lost in the Woods

Standing there, she watched him walk away. Jayne got up with his plate, put it aside to the sink and stood next to her. But she was watching Mal sink down into his bunk. Even when the wounds had healed, Mal was still miserable. Everyone else was cleaning their plates off. Breakfast had come and gone and Adalyn was surprised none of them made a remark about her and Jayne being absent from not only last night's dinner, but yesterday's breakfast as well. She'd lost track of time after that first time. Just being with Jayne, snuggled or sexing or whatever they decided to do at the moment, had occupied her so completely that she forgot about chores and drops and meals.

Jayne nudged her. She looked at him over her shoulder. He didn't say anything, just looked at the entrance to Mal's bunk. That small suggestion made her almost tear up. She felt it sting, the joy of seeing Jayne trust her.

"I got the dishes," he offered noncommittally.

She nodded and walked off. The others were had gone about the same time Mal did, off to do their own thing, whatever it may be. She moved down the corridor, knocking once on Mal's door and waiting for anything saying he might want to talk. They still hadn't spoken since the drop. He'd avoided her, she'd taken the hint to stay away. But now she had the feeling it was more his guilt than anything keeping him from her. From that easy camaraderie they'd shared. She missed it. Jayne was her man, but Mal was her captain. He was the friend.

She knocked again. His voice was flinty, "What!"

"It's me," she said quietly.

There was quiet. Unbearable quiet. If he had it his way, they wouldn't talk. But she hated his way more time than not. Pushing in the ladder, she climbed down the stairs. The first thing she saw was him facing away from her, sitting in his battered old leather chair. He was hunched over his knees, elbows resting. She closed the door and stood there.

"Mal."

"Get out."

"You know that never works," she tried to smile in her voice.

He stood and faced her angrily, glaring at her, "Dammit, Addy, get out!"

She flinched. She couldn't remember a time when he'd used that tone, that angry and betrayed voice, on her.

"I'm not leaving."

"You should."

"Mal…"

He walked right up to her, his face in hers, and pointed to the door, "Get out or I will put you out."

"No."

"You think coming here will make it all okay?"

"I think talking to me is something you'll have to do eventually."

"Get out."

"Why are you so afraid of me?"

"Out!"

"Why are you afraid of me loving him?"

He looked like she'd slapped him. He stood there. She could see the dark circles under his eyes. He'd always stayed far enough away before to keep them hidden by shadows or distance. But now, he looked so ragged. Like he'd not slept since Roland had taken her.

"Ain't it," he whispered, looking down at the floor.

"Then what?"

"My fault."

"No. It wasn't. You know that."

"Got you into it. Was too late to get you out of it, wasn't I? Took you from one scrape to the next and just got you hurt more."

"That's not the way of it."

He grabbed her wrist and she reacted. Violently. He ended up across the room, slouched against the baseboard of the curved wall. She stood there, her heart thumping in her ears. She didn't know how she'd thrown him, just knew that she obviously had. He slowly got back to his feet, looking at her from where he was.

"That wouldn't've happened two months ago."

She stammered, "I'm…I'm sorry. I didn't, didn't mean to."

"I know. And it's my fault. I left you there."

"I chose to be left."

"Weren't your choice. And what did I do? Got you back, got you better, and I was too stupid to see how hurt you were. Had no right taking you on that job. No right making you and Jayne jump at each other's throats. You can't say it's not all my fault. You died. I know you did. And that _hwoon dahn_ brought you back just so he could hurt us."

"I'm fine now, Mal. I'm not weak and I am not dead. I'm here. You didn't lose me."

"And next time?"

"I was rather hoping there wouldn't be a next time."

"There will be. You're not untouchable. You'll get killed 'cause of me."

She stared at him. He'd come closer, bearing down on her again, but she tried to smile, "This is my family, Mal. I'm not leaving anytime soon of my choice."

"You should. Should get off the next port we hit and leave. Settle down."

"And do what? Knit? Wait for the Alliance to find me? I'm safer here and you know it. What Roland did to me wasn't your fault. And he's dead now. I'm here because this is my home. Not because you owe me or I owe you. Because I want to be here."

"Why you choosing me again?"

"Because it's what you need. And as far as Jayne, he sent me down here. He's a good man when he gets it in his mind to be. I wish you could see that."

He smiled bitterly, "Did. Whole time you were locked up, he never stopped pacing with Vera to his front. Never seen the man more ready to fight."

"See? My men came after me. No woman could ask for more."

He surveyed her, his body a little less agitated. A little less angry and hurt, "You got faith in us, then?"

"Always."

He nodded. She didn't want to admit that she saw him swallow away emotion, but she did and it made her smile. He looked up towards where the galley was.

"Best be getting back to that man of yours. Hear tell he's the jealous type."

She smiled, "Only with you."

She left him there, climbing back up the ladder. At least he was more at ease. At least he'd talk to her. Walking back from the ladder to the kitchen, she found Jayne still hovering over the dishsink. Time being, he'd drop dishes to get out of the chore. Then he realized he was just going to pay for them anyway, and he'd be forced to do more, so that approach didn't last long.

She walked up next to him and wrapped her arms around him. He looked down a bit at her, wrapping his arm over her shoulders. He kissed her on the forehead and squeezed her tight. She loved it. Felt safe. Felt wanted and alive.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."


	25. A Lost Meaning

Adalyn rolled her eyes. She watched apathetically for a moment while Simon got the better half of his gut pounded in. Leave him alone for a few minutes, and he finds a way to piss off the nastiest looking buzzard in the bar. Kaylee wasn't much of a fighter. She knew that. But even she was doing better. Taking the empty glass bottles and chucking them toward various targets. Duck down and wait for another chance. But Simon…

Oh, River would have her head if she didn't help him. The final straw was the bigger man pitching Simon to the ground. It left him open. Adalyn smiled.

She ran and jumped. Both feet firmly planted to his chest and the momentum behind them got her what she wanted. He toppled back. She turned and braced her own fall with her arms. She had the benefit of expecting the fall. She got up quicker. She landed a heeled boot to his temple and he cursed, rolling to his side in pain with his hand clamped to his wound. Her instinct told her to duck and she did just that, another man sailing overtop her. Staying crouched, she lashed out with one boot behind her to nail a sensitive groin, the howl afterwards her only needed indication that she'd been on target.

She stood, slinging out her gun and aiming.

A man held Simon by the neck. The boy looked bad. More than bad. He looked like he could use a doctor his own self. This predicament had been put before her one other time. She'd dropped the gun that time. Trusted Simon with her life. He wasn't fit to defend anyone at the moment, let alone her against a larger, bulky man. The gun was still raised when Kaylee whimpered and yelped.

Adalyn turned to see her in the same exact position as Simon. She harrumphed. Okay, now it wasn't easy. She could admit when the shot was hard and these two were. Simon was slumping and barely conscious. Kaylee would squirm. She'd only pulled one gun and pulling another would require an extra second of time she didn't know if she had.

Two men, same height, bulky and in need of a shaving. More likely than not friends. Big foreheads. One chuckled.

"Who you gonna save, little girl?" he asked; he being the one that held Kaylee. The one Adalyn didn't have her gun trained on.

She didn't consider herself to be a little girl.

Squeeze the trigger, grab the gun, and squeeze another. A scream and two bodies dropped. A third collapsed under his own weight a moment later. The fourth ran across the room, bypassing Adalyn altogether to kneel by his side.

Kaylee looked back up at her, shaken and upset and unsure, "What—?"

"Come on, let's get you two back to the ship."

She leaned down next to the two of them and Kaylee recoiled. Adalyn felt her heart drop. She, for the first moment since she'd come back in the bar, felt as if she might have lost.

"Kaylee, he'll be fine."

Those eyes, usually so cheery and welcoming, hardened. But there were no words. She only helped Simon to his rickety feet. He stumbled and when Adalyn went to steady him, Kaylee glared. Again no words but volumes to be heard and seen. Adalyn backed off. She let Kaylee help the doctor. She looked back at the carnage she'd reaped and hauled, only to be fronted with the more disturbing notion that maybe it would have been better to not get involved at all.

* * *

Mal watched his mechanic bear most of the weight. River had started pitching a fit for a moment before they were ever in sight and that's when Mal had bristled. When Simon was in danger, it meant Kaylee was in danger. When Kaylee was in danger, he always bristled. He'd made damn well sure that Adalyn went with them to keep that danger at bay. He'd thought he'd been clear. But now, seeing Kaylee bearing Simon's broken body and Adalyn a few good steps behind, he wondered if she'd let the doctor get so mussed on purpose.

He barreled down the stairs. Jayne was alert and on his weight bench, unsure of what to do. Standing there he eyed Simon and Kaylee and was glad to see that Kaylee hadn't a scratch on her.

"Kaylee. You okay?"

"Yeah. But he needs…I'm gonna take him down to the infirmary."

Zoe came down the first flight of stairs when she heard the commotion. River stayed near the common.

He watched the two of them go. He was keenly aware that Adalyn was slightly behind him. Keenly aware that she wasn't doing her job. Kaylee and Simon disappeared down into the common and after that, the infirmary. The boy looked like he'd done nine rounds with a sumo wrestler and was more a punching bag than anything else.

He grabbed her by the collar. Grabbed Adalyn by the collar and rammed her against the side of the stairwell. She gave a little huff when her back hit the metal. He tightened his grip, expecting at any moment that she would throw him off because he knew she very well could.

She didn't. She only stared at him. He didn't know why she wasn't throwing his grip, but not knowing only got under his skin more.

"What in the hell you playing at? Put them in danger? I thought I made perfectly clear what it was you were supposed to not let happen!"

"You did."

"Then why is my medic limping about and why is my mechanic hauling his weight?"

"Because I got involved too late. Or at all…not sure which is worse at this point."

He jolted her, making her hit the stairwell again. She winced but didn't do anything he thought she would, "You got two jobs on this boat. It ain't often I call on you for guard dog but when I do I expect you to listen. Are we understanding each other?"

"We are. I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What in the hell you think that's gonna accomplish?"

She only stared him with dead eyes. No fire. No pride or anger or anything he expected.

"Cap'n…"

He looked around to see Kaylee. Adalyn's eyes followed his gaze. She was a little bloody. But he supposed that was more from Simon then her.

"She did help us. Saved us, more like. Weren't her fault what happened."

He couldn't tell if his mechanic was being intimidated by Adalyn or if she was genuinely talking. He loosed his grip on Adalyn's collar and she straightened. He waited for it. For a hit or a haughty look or something. But she only walked away. Past him and Kaylee and Jayne and other scrutinizing eyes.

He watched her go, turning his look to Kaylee, "What's going on, li'l Kaylee?"

Kaylee came closer, fiddling with her hands, "She did, Cap'n. She saved us. She was only gone for a minute and they started beating him. Like they was waiting. She came back and threw 'em off. But one man gotta hold'a Simon. 'Nother got me. She shot 'em. Both o'em. Just dead. I…I'm mad that she did. Spooked, too. She could'a killed us soon as those guys. Didn't stop her."

"Then why are you defending her?"

"Simon asked. Said she'd not done it before. After Roland got a hold of her. When those guys came looking for you and Adalyn took 'em out? Simon said he got used as cover. She could'a shot. But she didn't. Didn't risk it. Threw down her gun and got shot for it."

"Don't sound like her at all," Jayne walked closer.

"Simon said she just dropped the gun. Not a moment's thought. He hit the guy. Kept the shot from killing her…but she just dropped it."

"I've seen her shoot, Cap. No reason for her to drop that gun."

Mal straightened, the quick picture of Adalyn's mind running through his. He sighed. He could kick himself. He put his hands to his hips and hung his head for a thought before exhaling sharply, "Yes, there was."

"Whaddaya mean?" Kaylee asked.

"Proved she trusted him. Even after what Roland did…likely she could'a made that shot. But she let Doc do it—let him pull the hit."

"I don't get it. Gal's best shooter on this boat and she let the doc save her ass?" Jayne asked.

Zoe came down. Zoe looked like she knew exactly what was going through Mal's head. He didn't like what had just happened, didn't like that one of his crew had been beat on, but the reason for it was all too clear now. And Zoe seemed to get it just about the same time he did. Her face was, for all her terseness, sympathetic.

"She had no other way to prove she trusted him," she said slowly.

Jayne and Kaylee looked at her for a moment before Kaylee's eyes dropped, "And when she shot those guys…"

"She expected us to trust her back," Mal finished, wanting to be on the receiving end of a hit right about now.

* * *

Simon could feel the swelling in his hands from the punches he'd managed to throw. He hated the idea that his hands, his most vital instruments, might be compromised from the fight. He could feel blood coming up from his lung and a rib or two scratch at it like he knew they shouldn't. His face was throbbing. His whole body felt like dead weight.

Adalyn had saved him. It might have come a little later than he'd liked, but she'd saved him and Kaylee without ever hesitating.

And he could hear perfectly well the lashing she got for that 'later than he'd liked' part. He hated the idea that she was being blamed for something that really wasn't her fault. Wasn't anything close to her fault. His ability to piss people off had caused the problem. Adalyn hadn't. She'd come in, rolled her eyes—yes, he'd managed to notice that while he was getting beat—and then went into action.

He hated the notion that Mal, her only true connection with the world, was the one that did the blaming. He knew, maybe more than she did, just what Mal meant to her. Mal was to her what River was to him. The only thing in this verse she really had left. No kin. No fortunes. No safe haven…expect for him and this ship. Sure, she and Jayne were more attracted to each other than they, more she, let on. But Jayne was what he was. He was a mercenary and Adalyn trusted him just about as much as Simon did.

She walked in. He held his breath, wondering if the temper she held in with Mal would be taken out on him. The very fact that, yet again, she'd walked into the infirmary under her own notion gave him reason to wonder if she was as friendly as she'd proven in the past. His sister stayed next to him, not looking between them, only at him. Sympathetically, he thought. He knew she trusted Adalyn implicitly. The fact that he doubted her intentions might be the very reason for that look the reader was delivering.

But Adalyn only reached into drawers, pulling out weaves and other things. She slowly, methodically, patched his wounds. He didn't say anything. He could only watch as time and again she fought with her eyes to keep them dry. Those eyes told so much to anyone who took the time to notice them. And the thing Simon saw that hurt more than any of his wounds was the disappointment displayed in them now.

* * *

The bag was being abused. Maybe not literally, but he was sure it hadn't been sporting those gashes earlier in the evening. Her fists where taped up and the tape was red. He knew he didn't have any red tape in his infirmary. He'd been hearing the hitting for the last hour or so and had only now felt strong enough to get up. He wondered how long she'd been hitting the bag before he'd heard it.

She was sweaty. He found himself not entirely worried that the tape was red for her exertion. That her tightly clenched fists were drawing blood from her palm or that her knuckles had been cracked beneath the tape. For once, he didn't see the wounds. He saw the wounded. Blamed for a fight that wasn't hers to stop and shunned by the man who meant so much, this was all she could do.

Things hadn't been right since Roland had gotten a hold of her. She wasn't the same woman she'd been before. Harder, more calloused. As much as she'd gotten tougher, she'd lost a fire that had kept her going. And Simon didn't really know how to light it again. Her mind had been knocked around too many times. Her body had mended, but she was still broken.

The bag rattled on its chain. Her pin straight hair was pulled up into the messy ponytail he'd come to expect when she was exercising. Her face was furrowed. Her fists kept delivering lethally heavy blows to the leather in front of her. Her few garments were drenched and little rivers of sweat rolled down her exposed back. In the absence of the bra straps, he could see a tattoo. He hadn't seen it before. It stretched from shoulder blade to shoulder bade. Maybe six or seven inches extended below that. Only the unique shape of the sports bra let him see it.

She must've gotten it after escaping from the Academy. A marking like that would be unsightly in the upper class they'd fallen from.

"Adalyn."

She delivered a punctuated hit and then waited.

"Do you want me to hold it?"

She didn't say no and only stayed still. He pushed up his sleeves and walked around, bracing the bag. She resumed her cathartic hammering. He flinched. He should've known better than to think he could do this without making his own wounds hurt. Each hit made him feel just a little weaker. Like he was no match for her. For anyone. His own sister could outdo him. Even Kaylee had come out of the bar without a scratch.

"Teach me to fight," he said, surprising himself.

She stopped in mid-hit. She looked around the curve of the bag to see him. He stopped bracing it. She ran her eyes up and down, like she wasn't sure if it was wise for him to do anything of the sort at the moment.

"You're doing this because you had to do what you did. I put you in that position. For that, I'm sorry."

"Fighting isn't something you teach. It's something you learn," she said quietly, her voice sounding so out of place with her stony features.

"Then I want to learn."

She considered him again. She reached for the tape that sat on the bench. She wrapped another layer around her knuckles, making the blood beneath them squirt out a little. It dripped to the deck. He ignored it.

"Not sure it's altogether wise, seeing how I'm on captain's bad side. Don't think he'd like me beating on you."

"He doesn't need to know."

She smiled incredulously, condescending, "You're not a fighter."

"Make me one."

She scoffed, "You ever kill a man, boy?"

He straightened. This was part of it. How she operated. Test the opponent first, see if they crumble. He walked closer.

"I'm not a boy. And no. Never."

"You even shot a man?"

"Once or twice."

She nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek, "Once or twice," she came closer, sizing him up and using those eyes to make him feel smaller than a mouse. He wanted to break the stare. Wanted to get that scrutinizing glare away from his eyes. He swallowed. She only pressed in closer, every nerve in his body telling him to back down, "You start fighting, it'll lead to killing. Nothing in the verse will change that. Sooner or later, you will kill. You will kill and it will haunt you. It will change you. So if you learn to fight, you're learning to kill. You tell me right now, Doctor Tam, if you're ready for that."

They were too close. But that didn't matter. He nodded, his voice escaping him for a moment, "I am."

"Why?"

He hadn't thought about that. He almost broke the continuing eye contact, "Because I need to be able to protect people. Kaylee and River…myself."

She smiled, haughty, "River's the fighter of the Tam line. She doesn't need you. And Kaylee…she's smart enough to hide and duck until trouble passes. They don't need you to protect them. So why?"

"So others won't have to do it for me."

"Now there's a better answer."

She walked away, turning her back on him. He felt his knees almost give out, his muscles relax for the lack of her determined gaze. She turned to look at him again and this time those eyes were understanding, sympathetic, even.

She tossed the roll of tape to him. He caught it.

"Start with tape. Keeps rich skin like ours from breaking too easily."

He couldn't tell if she was insulting them both at once. He mimicked her wrapped knuckles. He really wanted to ask if her own bleeding skin needing tending to. But that wouldn't help him or her. Some part of him that was starting to wake up knew that.

"Close your eyes."

His brow furrowed, "Excuse me?"

"Close your eyes."

He threw the tape back onto the bench and slowly closed his eyes. He waited for the inevitable. A sucker punch just to prove he wasn't ready. Maybe some ill-mannered attempt to jolt him.

"What do you hear?"

"The ship. The engine."

"What else?"

"The air."

"Where am I now?"

She sounded like she'd moved to his right. But he hadn't heard it save for her words, "You're to my right."

"How do you know?"

"Your voice."

"Is that the only way you know?"

"Yes."

"It shouldn't be. Even with me being me, you should hear me. Feel me because I'm the opponent here. I'm the one you need to worry about. You should know exactly where I am even when I'm not making a sound. Make your body follow me. Instinct. Everyone has it. You need to trust it."

"Not something doctors are taught to do."

"Not something doctors can live without, though."

"Is it something assassins do?"

"Yes. We do. River and me. We live for our instincts. Live or die by them. Every fight, every opponent, every hit, is governed by instinct. It isn't something you teach. It's something you learn to listen to. So, listen. If you feel like ducking, throwing a punch, do it because it means you're listening."

She was silent. She'd been circling him through her words and he only knew because she was speaking. But now, he could only hear _Serenity_. Adalyn was gone. How was this going to help him? His nerves were on end. His fists clenched. Everything in his body told him to open his eyes or run. Everything that he considered instinct told him this was too dangerous.

He ducked. He didn't know why or what made him do it, but he did.

"Very good."

He found her again, "You tried to hit me?"

"Only a little. Slow. Nothing serious. But you still ducked."

He opened his eyes to see her sitting on Jayne's workout bench. She looked calm and reasonable. Appraising, but not a threat for the moment.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Why? What did you feel?"

He swallowed down his pride; he was sure she knew the answer already anyway, "Like running."

"That's not instinct. That's self-preservation. That's human nature. What you listened to was pure, animal instinct. Something that runs deeper than humanity."

She got up and went toe to toe with him. She threw a punch. He yelped when it connected with his jaw. He staggered a bit. They shared a glance before he held his jaw in pain.

"What was that for?"

"Why didn't you duck? You could do it with your eyes closed. Why not now?"

He ignored the pain. Intrigued, he straightened, "I don't know."

"Because your eyes feed your human nature. Animal instinct doesn't need to see to know what to do. The trick is to listen to instinct while seeing and ignoring that nagging self-preservation."

He remembered something, "You mean, giving up?"

She flinched. He wondered now, more than he had before, what River was talking about. He watched her regain her composure, push aside that pain it brought up.

"Yes."

"River said something. About what saved you from the Academy and Roland. She said you gave up."

"Do you know what giving up is?"

"Verbally, yes. But I'm sure that's not what you want."

"No. If you go into a fight thinking you're gonna win, you've already lost. The animal isn't looking for any opportunity because you've convinced it it doesn't need to."

"But giving up makes the mind more alert for an opening."

"Smart boy."

"Why do you keep calling me boy? I'm not that much younger than you."

Her face went tight, "Age has nothing to do with it."

"You think you're better than me."

"No. Just a little smarter. Wiser. Likely more experienced."

"I'd really prefer it if you'd just call me Simon."

"I'll tell you what: you land a punch to me, and I'll stop calling you boy."

He stared at her for a moment, "What?"

"Attack me."

She closed her eyes and waited. He stood there, unsure if, one he wanted to and, two he should. She could dismember him soon as look at him. He wasn't a fighter. Not yet and not good enough to be fighting against her. No one fought against her and came out on top. Not even his sister. His only thought was that this was a bridge he needed to cross. One day, he might have to fight her off. One day, he might have to protect himself or others against her.

He threw a punch. She ducked forward and one leg arched over her back to hit him in the face. He shook his head free of the hit and watched as she kept her eyes perfectly closed, her body relaxed and in control.

He recoiled his fist and arm and before he ever let them fly, she grabbed his shirt collar and yanked. He landed face first on the deck and his ribs rubbed against his lung. He cursed. He got onto all fours and winced. A hand came down into view. He sighed and took it, letting her help him to his feet. The pain in his back and front and, well, everywhere, made him lean on her a bit for a moment.

"Let's get you back to bed, boy."

He rolled his eyes, "You're giving up on me that quick?"

"No. But I don't like the idea of me kicking the daylights out of you before you're healed up proper. So, we'll try again when you're mended."

She let him go, moving away to rip tape from her knuckles. He winced when she didn't at seeing scabs come off and more blood trail from her skin. The doctor in him wanted to ask. Wanted to offer help. But that, he quickly realized, was not what instinct told him to do.


	26. A Lost Thanks

Her mind was still thinking it could've been her. Her hands were trembling not only because Simon was so beat up, but because she'd been inches away from a bullet in her brainpan. She winced when she heard Adalyn slammed against something, the captain's voice a little more than angry. Simon took her hand as he sat on the infirmary bed. She looked at him, tears in her eyes. His hands felt slick with blood. Were bleeding and swelling and it was Adalyn's fault.

"_Bao bei_, it's okay."

She nodded, not able to speak for the emotional hand around her throat.

"Adalyn got us out. It's fine."

She looked down at their holding hands, "She shot 'em."

"Yes."

"Could'a been us, Simon. She just—and he just fell. Weren't no reason for her to kill 'em like that. She could'a hit us."

"She's an excellent shooter, Kaylee. You know that."

"Don't it bother you she shot 'em like that? My ear's still waiting to be clipped off."

She looked him in the eyes when he paused for a moment. For the bruises and blood, she could still make out a sympathetic face. They both glanced at the cargo bay where Adalyn was still getting a verbal lashing. Simon watched a moment longer what he could only hear before he looked back to her.

"She shot them because she's good enough to. Last time she didn't."

"Last time?"

"When you all left and I stayed back to take care of her. After she was taken by Roland…those men came and she fought them off. I was used as cover by the last one. She aimed and he had a gun to my head. She didn't shoot, Kaylee."

"I don't get it."

They both winced when Mal raised his voice and it carried the anger into the infirmary.

"She didn't shoot and she got shot for it. I was able to fend him off when she dropped the gun, but, she still got shot."

Kaylee looked at him. He'd never told her how exactly Adalyn had gotten shot that day. She assumed it was from the fighting. Not from Simon being used as a shield. He looked guilty. He looked pained for the yelling Mal was doing to her. She'd never seen him look so guilty before. Not about anything save for his sister.

"Can you go tell him that?"

She stared at him for a moment, "What?"

"This wasn't her fault, Kaylee. And he doesn't know that she saved us from worse."

She nodded. Some part of her was suddenly grateful. She didn't like what Adalyn had done, but if Simon trusted her, she trusted him enough to as well. She turned to leave and River walked in. The younger girl put her hand on Kaylee's shoulder when she walked past. It was comforting. She looked back to Simon once before turning the corner for the cargo bay.

The captain had Adalyn by the collar and pinned to the stairwell. She looked like she was lost, like she thought she deserved what he was saying. Kaylee wrung her hands together.

"Cap'n…"

They all looked at her. She tried to remember that Adalyn didn't deserve what he'd said. She'd saved them. And Adalyn looked for all the verse like she wasn't really here. Like she'd left emotion and that fire behind at the bar.

"She did help us. Saved us, more like. Weren't her fault what happened."

The captain let her go and she only pushed past him and her. There wasn't even a glance when she passed. No thank you or menacing glare. Nothing. She just became a shadow.

What had changed her? Kaylee looked back at the captain and wanted to ask. Wanted to know what he'd said to make her so lost, but she had the sneaking idea that it hadn't been him at all.

She told him what Simon had said. Thinking all the while that, maybe if she'd said thank you at the bar, or not shied away from a friendly hand, Adalyn would be more vivid. Maybe if she'd trusted her just a little more, like River did, she wouldn't feel so guilty for making her look like a zombie. She'd saved their lives.

There were no two ways around that. Adalyn had come in, done the chore, and tried to help afterwards. Kaylee had only been startled. And now she thought it came off so much worse than that. For all the times Adalyn had put her skills to use, not once before had Kaylee reacted so harshly.

"She expected us to trust her back," the captain said sadly.

Kaylee looked back around to see Adalyn in the infirmary putting bandages on Simon's wounds. She wasn't jealous. Impressed, maybe. Grateful, mostly. For all her hate of that blue and bright room, she put it aside every now and then to help someone what needed it. And maybe it was her way of apologizing about them getting into the brawl in the first place.

All she wanted was to be trusted. Ever since Roland had gotten a hold of her, it seemed she'd been dislocated from herself. And something so small as trust was enough to maybe bring her back to life. Kaylee wanted to trust her. Wanted more than anything to be as sure that she trusted her as River was.

River looked at her through the infirmary window. Nothing creepy. Just a look. No doubt she heard Kaylee's guilt-ridden mind and was feeling sympathy. Kaylee left the others there, in the cargo bay. She walked back to the infirmary. Adalyn looked at her once. She handed over some bandages and started to walk out.

"Thanks. For helping us out."

Adalyn paused, not looking back, before continuing onto her bunk. Kaylee watched her go, defeated. She turned back to Simon. Nothing would be better for a while. He took her hand again. He wasn't psychic, but he knew just how to touch her to make her give a little smile.

"Did she say anything?"

"No. I don't think she will for a while."

"She just wanted to be trusted. And I hurt her."

"No, Kaylee. It's not you."

"Then what?"

"He blamed her. Made her feel lost," River spoke up.

"The cap'n?"

"Him yelling at her certainly didn't help."

"Weren't even her fault. Not really."

"Now he knows that."

"You think he'll apologize?" she asked, hopeful.

Simon shrugged, "Maybe. Even then, it'll take a little while."

Kaylee felt her eyes well a little, wishing that she'd not gotten Adalyn in trouble with the captain. If she'd let her help Simon, she wouldn't've been under the captain's hands. Too much went wrong for this to work out easily. But she could've just been grateful and that would've been something. She could've trusted her more. Could've been a friend.


	27. When A Fight Is Lost

He fell backward ungracefully after she swept his feet out from under him. His head hit the deck plating and his tailbone felt like it had been smashed into bits. She waited impatiently. He'd told her not to pull punches because he was sure he was ready. Two weeks of stupid, name-calling nights and he thought he would be ready to take her on for a sparring match. He'd asked and she'd obliged. They wrapped their knuckles and he'd been lucky for the first few moments. Thrown a few punches that she easily dodged and manage to avoid without task.

"Get up, boy!"

He glared at her. This wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want her to look down on him anymore. He pushed himself to his feet and held his fists up again.

"I'm not a boy," he glowered.

She walked closer, "Then prove it!"

She threw a punch and he ducked. He tried to hit her exposed gut but she pulled back her midsection, not giving him the chance. He didn't let her have a moment. He threw another punch even though he was off balance. She ducked and kicked sideways, hitting him in his chest. He lost his momentum and stumbled backwards, his feet unable to keep up with his body. He fell on his back again.

She scoffed, "You are pathetic. Fight me! Stop dancing around like a little priss and fight me!"

He got back to his feet, "I am."

"You told me not to pull punches and I expect you to do the same. Now fight me!"

He tried to hit her. She pulled her face away from the blow and leaned forward again with the back of her fist drumming on the side of his face before the swing ended. He didn't care that she was taunting him. He only wanted to land one punch. One hit that would prove he could do it. He didn't care that his face felt like exploding. He brought his fist around and thought, for a moment, that he would hit her.

She caught it. She caught his balled up fist. It was only a few inches from her face and yet still not good enough.

He winced when she squeezed his fist tighter. That blank, disappointed face when he silently gaped at the pain she was inflicting on him made him realize just what he'd picked a fight against. Not who. What.

"Is this how you plan to protect yourself? Huh? Throwing dead weight punches? Falling flat on your ass? You have learned nothing from me! Not a good gorramn thing! You said you wanted to fight and here you can't even spar. Pathetic! You will never be the strong one, boy!"

He hurled his other arm at her, that fist curled. She caught that one, too. She glared at him through a cage of caught fists.

Oh, this would hurt.

He slammed his forehead forward and it nailed her nose. She winced and backed away, holding onto her nose amidst her watering eyes. He shook off the pain of her vice grip on his hands and threw another punch. She brought her forearm up to deflect it, her reared heel slamming into his chest to force him back. He only took a moment to recover his balance. He tried to backhand her and she blocked that, bringing his arm forward to throw his weight off.

No, he knew this one. He knew what she would try to do. He'd seen her do it to others. Spin around and use their own weight and momentum to move them into being a shield. He leaned back to offset his forward momentum and brought his free fist around.

It connected under her eye.

She spun and released his wrist. Her eyes gleamed with a fire he'd seen so few times before. Her spin revealed a backhand that he'd hadn't noticed in time. It hit his temple. Harder than any of the other hits. Harder than he knew she was capable of. It felt like a lead weight had hit him instead of the back of her fist. HHHHe went down, his vision blurred. He had only begun to see again when she straddled him, her hands around his neck although not altogether tight. She was on one knee. He grabbed at her wrists instinctively. She'd choked him once before and even this unthreatening pressure on his neck made him squirm. He tried to push her hands up and away but she kept a firm hold. He could breathe, she wasn't trying to kill him. She only glared at him through a split cheek and nose. Blood started to drip onto his undershirt.

"Having trouble, Simon?"

He grunted under the gradually increasing pressure on his neck, "Yeah."

"Good."

She stood, taking her hands from his neck and offering one to help him up. He paused, unsure of the peace submission. He took it and she helped to lift him from the deck. He watched her for a moment. Two hairline splits on her face had been his doing.

He'd hit her.

Twice.

She smiled at him, "Nice job."

"I'm sorry," he started to reach for her wounds.

"No apology. I look better off than you."

He touched his own swelling face. Busted lip and more than a few gashes in his cheeks. One eye, he was sure, would be nearly swollen shut by morning. He could already feel the pressure beneath it.

"You called me Simon," it dawned on him.

She only cocked an eyebrow at him before tossing off a sloppy salute and walking away towards her room.


	28. A Lost Burden

He hadn't really meant to follow. Hell, not like he needed to. Gal had said where she was going, so he'd left well enough alone 'cause it wasn't his kind of place. She hadn't said a thing to Mal, so he knew it was someplace Cap wouldn't approve of. Hadn't said much of anything to anyone, so he knew she didn't really think it was important. Important stuff she would share. At least she'd share with him or Mal, in any case. Found a smile tugging at his lips to think of her stepping foot inside a church. He s'posed some folk needed it more'n others did. Looked like she was one of them.

The doors were wide and wooden, doubled-up and set open for the midday mass. From the outside, it didn't look like nothing. Just a little wooden place out of the way at the base of a hill. But the small symbols above the steeple bell gave it away for the place it was. House of God, no matter which a person chose to believe in. She stopped at the doors, looking up like she was asking permission or somesuch. He didn't stop, just walked closer. She wasn't paying him no mind mostly on account of her being too busy walking in and blessing herself. Dipped her hand in some gilded bowl of water, rubbing it on her forehead.

She moved 'bout halfway up the main isle before picking a banister pew to pray over. He couldn't ever remember her being on her knees. Leastways not in front of everyone. In his bunk was a different matter. He stood in the back of the building, watching her. Steepled her hands and bowed her forehead, silently doing whatever it was she felt she needed to do. There were mayhap a handful of people kneeling and praying. Most were in the poorer way of being. He almost jumped when the bell rang. She hadn't. Girl had nerves of steel.

The high-fancy men in robes came out with the jug of water. His momma'd made him go to a house like this once, took a blessing in before he set out in the 'verse. Never done it since. Hadn't had a care to do it in the first place. Man like him had more faith in guns than God. With the fanciful men speaking Mandarin, they called up sinners and beggars and the like. She got up and took her place in line. They'd kneel, get some special water poured over their head, and got their blessing according to what God they wanted it from. He thought she was deemed Christian. Couldn't be sure though; she was one who didn't much care which God was listening so long as it was one of them.

The folk what got their blessing left or went back to praying. Not much excitement considering souls was being saved. She was a bit down the line. Had to wait her turn, he supposed. Another body came in and he didn't pay much mind until he realized it was Simon.

The doc looked awkwardly at him and Jayne didn't find himself much at words, either.

"Jayne. I didn't think you'd be here," he whispered.

He gestured to Adalyn, "Came for her."

Simon's jaw 'bout near dropped to see her in line. He stared for a moment before moving into the line. Much as Jayne had reservations about God and such, seeing both Simon and Adalyn in the same room for the same purpose made his uneasiness a little less uneasy.

Maybe his momma'd been right for making him do it. Damn if it wouldn't be another woman what got him in line.

He walked up next to her and she stared at him. She didn't say anything on account they were the next in line. She only smiled and looked back at the pillows when the man before her got up. He wrapped his hand in hers and walked up with her. Some boy put down another pillow. He wasn't one for kneeling, either. Priest man said his blessing over Adalyn 'fore moving to Jayne. He was more watching her be doused 'stead of hearing what the man was saying over him. She closed her eyes and he swore she was glowing. Looked like she was an angel. Halo and everything. When cold water touched his own forehead, he felt her tighten her grip on his hand. Weren't nothing like it before. It weren't some desperation what made her do it. It was something different. Something he couldn't ever really lay claim to doing before.

He believed it made a difference. Few drops of water were all it took for her. That was enough to make him think it was enough for him, too. Preacher said another prayer over them both before they got back on their feet. Her tight grip on his hand loosened and she stood, leaving him to catch up.

He didn't say a word while they walked out. He was sure she noticed the Doc kneeling at a pew. She didn't mention it, just kept walking.

She seemed lighter.


	29. We Were All Lost In The Beginning

**A/N: So, this rewinds the timeline a bit. Some folk have pointed out that Mal seems to know how to deal with Adalyn's telekinesis and other various issues. This is a simple recap that was never really explored. If you want more on this little niche of time, let me know!**

* * *

When Malcolm Reynolds walked into the infirmary to see Jayne, he didn't expect to see Adalyn standing at the threshold, slightly back, keeping an eye on him, too. He gave a smile as he walked past her into the blue room. She didn't return it, just kept her arms crossed and her gaze on Jayne. Mal looked at the readouts and nodded, knowing Jayne was tough enough to make it through.

"I'm sorry he got hurt."

"Wasn't you shot him."

"True."

"And whatever you did, you saved his life. What did you do, by the way?"

"What?"

"How'd you save him? Gotta admit I'm curious. Gal who can save a man from a gut wound like that has some professional training, I'd wager."

"Not really. Just some backwoods medicine."

"So you gave him something?"

"You could say that."

"What was it? Doc's kinda curious, too. Might help speed things up, him knowing and all."

"Don't know what it's called. Just some leftovers I had. I just know it works."

"You bring some with you?"

"Why? Afraid I'll use it to put you to sleep, too?"

"No, no."

"Then why the big interest?"

"Might be 'cause I'm impressed. Right now, you're living in the footsteps of two great and honorable men. I trusted them with my life just like I'm to trust you. So hate me all you want. But I'm not your enemy."

"No, not my enemy. You're worse. You're my ghost."

With that, she walked away. Mal leaned on the counter, feeling that quick sense of bravado go away. Her words made things harder. Was that the real reason she wouldn't accept him? Because he was the perpetual reminder that she'd lost something dear to her? If it was, it was enough of a reason.

Zoe walked in and stood there for a moment. He didn't meet her gaze.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"No more'n I am."

"She has their looks. And their attitude."

"That she does."

"Why did you keep her aboard, sir?"

He swallowed hard, not wanting to be calloused or gentle, or anything but captainish. He looked to her, "Because I couldn't help you."

"Sir?"

He looked back down to the floor, "Because, when Wash died, I couldn't help you. And it was my fault."

Zoe's eyes started to water, but she held it back, "You know that's not true. I don't blame you, for any of it."

"Don't you? It was my fault he got on this gor'ramn ship, my fault he died here."

"My husband loved this ship. He wouldn't have had it any other way. And as for you not helping me? That's the biggest _niou-se_ and you know it."

* * *

Mal looked up to see Adalyn walking from the back corridor. For the first few days, Adalyn kept to herself. She'd stay in her little room, and not come out 'cept when there was a call to make the meals. Even then, she'd take her serving back to her bunk. She was a ghost. Not too unlike her brothers. They'd all tried to talk to her. She'd been brief, at best. River was the only one she'd communicated with to any extent. He didn't understand them, their voices were muffled, but they would talk. Jayne had been moved to his room to sleep off the last of the drugs, the wound sealed and healed enough to warrant the move.

Taking two plates in her hands, she moved away from the table. Mal watched her for a moment, seeing her head towards the bridge.

"Your room not good enough?"

"I was taking some to Jayne."

They all stayed quiet. Simon cleared his throat, "He might not be up."

"Well, if he is, then he'll get to eat."

She disappeared out of the common and into Jayne's room silently.

"Could that be considered progress?" Zoe asked.

"Or an attempt to confound us. Which works, too."

* * *

Jayne heard his door ladder open and he looked to it. Seeing her there, balancing two plates on one arm while she climbed down with the other, was something startling. But she wasn't hard on the eyes. Not at all.

"I brought you some breakfast."

"Why?"

"Thought you'd be hungry."

He tried to sit up as she came closer, but the gut wound yelled at him. She paused, putting the plates down on his shelf, "You shouldn't try to sit up. Could make it worse."

"Right, 'cause you being here'll make it better."

"I didn't shoot you. That was the trip wire that I didn't set. I'm the one that saved your life."

"Yeah, they told me that version."

"I see. Well, I'm sorry to bother you then. Enjoy breakfast."

She turned, left both plates, and climbed back up the ladder. He watched her go, feeling a quick tinge of guilt. But he didn't really care as she closed the ladder, walking off back towards the common. She'd left more food than he was used to getting.

* * *

Mal heard her boots come back. She didn't cross the common, just took the stairs down to the lower deck. She hadn't been gone but five minutes. That hadn't been enough time to eat. Maybe enough time to leave the plates and go, but not enough for much else. He looked to Zoe. He didn't have to ask.

Zoe nodded and stood from the table, following after the woman. Mal sighed, sure something had happened that he wasn't too keen on knowing. He sat there, moving the monochromatic food around his plate, uninspired to eat the protein.

"She okay?" Kaylee spoke up.

Mal looked up, "Wouldn't know."

"Why are we taking her to Portsmith?" Simon spoke up.

"Ain't that a cemetery-town? From the war?" Kaylee asked.

Mal nodded, "Is."

"Who's she got buried there?"

"Brothers died at Serenity."

Kaylee and Simon straightened. Kaylee's cheery face faded a bit. She nodded. Mal felt his appetite die and he stood, leaving the food to head for the bridge. He'd known they'd have to know eventually. Have to wonder why he ever took her on. So, now they knew and he hated the idea of it. Hated bringing it up.

"The cat who swallowed the canary," River said quietly.

* * *

Zoe paused outside the room, unsure if she should knock or just open the door. Adalyn was one of those left behind after Serenity Valley. She hadn't been around to see the funeral; she'd been dealing with other things of her own. Did that make it worse for her? Never knowing save for what she was told in prison? Not wanting to believe it, not wanting to let the guards there drag her morale down.

Then to escape to find it wasn't all a story fed to her. It was real.

She knocked.

The door opened and Adalyn stood there, her face blank. But there was a glimmer of her brothers in those eyes. They were bright, emerald green, like Mark's had been. Jo had hazel eyes, a muddy combination of blues and browns. But Adalyn and Mark had the same eyes.

"Did you eat?"

Adalyn shrugged, "Your man wasn't too keen on company."

"He's rude to everyone."

"Did you need something?"

"Wanted to see if you were okay."

Adalyn considered that, stepping aside from the door, unblocking it, "You're Zoe Alleyne, right? Captain's right hand?"

"I am."

Zoe came in. Adalyn left the door open before sitting on the bed, "Brothers made a mention of you. Said you were something else in the war."

"They were, too. Been with the Captain and me for a few years before Serenity. Good men; stubborn."

"Runs in the family. Mark waved me when he got assigned to you. One of the last waves I got from him. Said he had a crazy sergeant and a hot corporal," she lingered her gaze on something for a moment. Zoe stayed quiet, unsure of what to say. Adalyn only turned her eyes to the floor, "Why'd he send you down here to check on me?"

"What makes you think he did?"

"Captain Reynolds isn't a subtle man."

Zoe exhaled, "I think he's worried about you."

"Why? What am I to him? To you? You don't know me."

"You're a Santayana. Captain doesn't need any other reason."

"And you?"

"Be good to put some ghosts to rest."

"Is that what the captain's doin'? Putting a ghost to rest?"

"I think he just wants to do right by you. Give him the chance and he will."

Adalyn stood, looking half dead, "Tell him not to get his hopes up. I'm not staying long."

Zoe nodded, knowing that was the end of the conversation. She left the room, feeling the sadness that had been coming off that woman. She made her way back up to the kitchen. Mal wasn't there. She took one glance at the bridge and saw him sitting there. She joined him, looking out at the vista of stars. It never was easy, seeing him in that seat where her husband used to sit, day-in and day-out. Mal piloted the ship, River helped. But Zoe still didn't like it when he sat there. Felt wrong to her. But she would never tell him. It wasn't her place to say. She wondered if he ever caught her wince when he sat in it. If it ever crossed his mind that something so simple could hurt so much.

"Captain?"

"How is she?"

Zoe paused, "Hurting. More ways'n one."

"Should'a known that answer."

"Sir, I don't think she wants us to help her."

"Seems that way, don't it?"

* * *

The captain knocked once on Adalyn's door. There was some shuffling inside, then it slid open. She stood there, her hair half pulled back and out of her face. The same face was unreadable, not even some spark of recognition as he stood there for a moment – but there were fresh tears.

"What?" she asked.

"Umm, we're landing on Persephone."

"You came all the way back here to tell me that?"

"Yeah. 'Cause, you know, I thought you'd like to know."

"Thanks," she started to close the door.

"Hey, um…how are you doing? Ain't seen you for the better part of the week. You ain't been sitting in on meals and the like. Wanted to make sure you were still alive."

"Thanks, for the concern. I'm fine. Is it possible for me to go planet side when we land?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing I wanted to ask you. Jayne's up and about so we'll be locking her down so we can all get off, get some supplies."

"Then I'll see you in the cargo hold when we land."

She shut the door in his face. He stood there for a moment. As he turned to go, River peeked out from the infirmary to see him. He almost jumped. She just stared.

"River. Nice to see you, too."

"She can't play, Captain."

He paused, looked over his shoulder at Adalyn's door, then back at River, "What?"

"Her heart doesn't want to play. She's not alive yet."

"Oh, well, that explains it."

"It does."

River stepped from the room and started walking back towards the common stairs. Mal watched her go, unsure of what she'd meant. He followed, knowing Adalyn would come out when they landed and not before.

* * *

The bustle of crowded streets was enough to make anyone happy for the solitude of _Serenity_. But River loved it. She loved being around others where she could feel, see and hear things. More things than usual. Adalyn was only a few steps ahead of her. Mal and Simon ahead, Kaylee and Zoe next to her and Jayne in the rear. They stayed together, trying to keep any trouble away from a larger group. But River knew there was always trouble. She could feel it coming. It took her a moment to digest it. But she'd felt it. And now it was time for her to do the thing the Alliance had trained her for: act.

Adalyn was the first to feel it. But Adalyn was different than the others. She was trained for this, too. Not just for this, but for it. That feeling in the back of the brain, the one River felt, made Adalyn feel. Adalyn stopped. Her brother and the captain stopped too, seeing her leave their side. Adalyn turned her gaze to River. River nodded, stopping too.

"Adalyn?"

"River?" Simon walked closer.

"You guys okay?" Zoe stared at them.

"It's their fun," River whispered.

Adalyn straightened. A man jumped at her from behind the stall she'd stopped at. But she was ready. River was, too. As Adalyn used the man's momentum to throw him across the street into the next stall, River grabbed Kaylee and Simon to keep them away from the fight.

The others had pulled weapons, unsure of the attack. That was a luxury Adalyn didn't need, one River didn't care about. They'd both been trained. The fight, the attack, was all it took. River knew it and she pulled Simon down to the ground as the man that had sailed over Adalyn tried to get back up.

Adalyn threw a solid punch to another, breaking his windpipe and then tossing him aside. The one she'd thrown came back and she closelined him. Kaylee yelped as one tried to grab her from behind. Jayne took care of him, throwing a well-aimed punch to knock his jaw loose and his grip away. The pedestrians had started to flee, unwilling to find a brawl. As River and Adalyn fought, Mal tried to keep his eye out for any authority that would more than likely come rushing. Zoe had her gun out, aiming at the man who'd grabbed Kaylee. Jayne'd thrown his grip and now he was open for a shot.

Mal caught something out of the corner of his eye. As he threw a random punch to knock away a brigand, he saw Adalyn flip before mule-kicking using the ground as a sounding board, making her kick all the more powerful. She hadn't spoken a word, hadn't thought for a second, before she acted. Two men tackled him. Adalyn spun and reached for her back strap holsters. She aimed both guns and pulled both triggers. Mal jumped as the shots fired past his ears to the assailants behind him. Each now had a perfectly centered hole in the forehead. Adalyn didn't stop there. She swung her aim to shoot one man grabbing at Simon and another beating on Jayne. The shots were perfect, dead hits. In the heart or brain and nowhere else. As Adalyn emptied her revolvers of another shot, Zoe threw a kick to the man that was already wounded from her punch.

The screaming and scuffing stopped. Grabbing up what supplies they'd dropped, they all started away from the street. Mal kicked one dead one over and saw something familiar. Reaching down, he picked off a shiny, knowing who had sent the bastards to get him.

He looked up at Adalyn; her hands were still outstretched, her eyes still glaring with the fight. He walked up to her slowly. But before he could do anything, she aimed down and shot.

One man, one who'd survived with only a few busted bones, was dead. Already down, he was out of the game now. Mal eyed her. The others had started off, taking River with them.

"Adalyn?"

She lowered her guns and holstered them. She ran off with the others. Mal shifted his load and followed, keeping one hand free to fight if he had to.

* * *

Mal walked away, unwilling to stand there any longer than he had to. Going a deck lower, he walked towards Adalyn's room. He stood there for a moment. He didn't know what he'd say when she opened that door. But he knocked anyway.

It took a moment, but the door opened, "Did you want something?"

"Wanted to talk. Can I come in?"

She moved aside and sat on the bed. He sat next to her, keeping a bit of distance for her comfort, "Thanks. For helping us out back there."

"Instinct."

"Your brothers got a wave not too long before Serenity Valley. Said you'd been arrested. More I see you fight and shoot, more I think you weren't being kept in some prison. So, begs the question what they did to you."

"They made me like River."

He nodded, digested that, "How old were you? When they got you?"

"Eighteen."

"And all this time…"

"After that big hoot 'bout the Reavers being an experiment gone bad, security wasn't as tight. I got out during a night shift. Raided their stash. Hopped a boat that would take me and that's where you found me."

He waited patiently while Adalyn took data cards out of her pocket and held them out for him, "There's some info about what can be done to control me, sedate me and other things. I didn't want anyone to know...because it could be dangerous if the wrong people got a hold of that information. But I think...I think you need to know."

Hhe took them slowly, moving his absent gaze to them, "Thank you."

"Like said before. My brothers trusted you."

"You're brothers might've been crazy, but they weren't dumb," he smiled depreciatively.

Her eyes misted, "_Xie xie_."

"Besides, what's one more freak to the ranks?"

She actually smiled, almost laughed, "River's the freak. I'm just the monster."

"Don't think I believe that."

"You should. It'll keep you safe."

"Why? Ain't like you're gonna turn on us."

She shook her head, "No, but there are triggers. Some of them I know, I was able to deactivate. Others…they'll make me numb, a weapon. A monster. Same with drugs. Best you think of me as a time bomb because that's all I am. I can't be anything else."

"Was a time we'd said the same 'bout River."

"That's not her fault. They stripped her amygdala. Made it so she couldn't control her emotions. Me? I'm just a soldier, waiting for orders."

"Then I'll be sure not to give you any."

She looked blankly at the data cards, "If something goes wrong, you do what it says. Don't let me kill your people."

"Alliance people?"

"Well, might be best if you didn't step in on that."

* * *

Mal plopped onto his bed after he loaded the data card. The text came up and the main heading was "Control Techniques". He sighed, not sure if he should go down further, keep reading. Adalyn wanted him to. She'd felt comfortable enough with him knowing. But did he? Knowing how to stop her was almost worse than not. Could he do it if there was nothing but a safe word like what controlled River? Could he do that to a Santayana? Dispose of her free will like the Alliance had? He sighed.

Scrolling down, he read about just what would turn her off and on. What would turn her into an invalid mind that was weak enough to be told what to do, who to kill. That same mind could be controlled with a few choice words and made to kill anyone needed to be. But if she was triggered, that was different. Then she'd kill the crowd. Everyone in a room, or building. Then only being drugged or deactivated could stop her. And the chances of that happening were slim, considering how she killed. Precision work, more painful than not. If she ever turned on the crew, hardly a one of them could stop her, unless he was able to drug her, maybe say a few things to slow her down. But even then, she was a loaded gun.

He popped out the card and held it for a moment, looking at it. Some of the information had been relevant to River. But River wasn't the hard one to control. Her mind did what it wanted and as long as it alerted Adalyn to any situation there might be, things were considered good. When she was triggered, like she'd been in the maidenhead, she just started beating on people. But she wasn't supposed to be triggered unless Adalyn needed it.

He stuck the card in his jacket pocket, knowing it wouldn't be taken anywhere except back to Adalyn's room.

* * *

Mal felt Serenity shudder as she landed. The landing gear locked down. River let go of the controls. Standing there with Zoe, he inhaled, seeing the distant cemetery. Zoe had her eyes trained on the radar, trying to see if anyone had followed them. But she shook her head at Mal's questioning glance. The thugs who'd set on them at Persephone no doubt had replacements by now, and Mal wasn't looking for them to show up here.

He heard another set of boots come up the forward corridor. He turned to see Adalyn. She hadn't stepped up onto the bridge, just waiting at the base of the steps with a little messenger bag on her hip. Her face was solemn, her eyes looking into Mal's.

"You take your time. Come back when your ready," he said softly.

She shifted, "Actually, I think they'd want you to come. You and Zoe."

Mal stood for a moment. He knew Zoe wouldn't say anything; whether she wanted to go or not, she would wait for his decision. Adalyn's endearing eyes moved him.

"Only if we're not crowding."

"You're not."

He nodded, not looking to Zoe. Adalyn started for the stairs down the corridor, on her way to the cargo bay. Mal slowly followed. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to go. Would Adalyn expect him to say something? Or was he there for her to rub it in his face?

* * *

Zoe had hung back. She'd come as far as she wanted, and then she'd hung back. Mal hadn't gone much further. The two stone totems were blank on top, the names carved on the round face. Adalyn solved that problem. Taking the two vidprojectors out of her bag, she placed them on the flat top of the gravestones. Pressing a button on each, her brothers, in a small thirty-second loop of capture, came to life. They were smiling. Jo had that sloppy grin. Mark was clean-shaven and a bit younger than Mal remembered him. Jo was, too. Adalyn kneeled there, between them. Mal looked back to Zoe. She would never say if she wanted to come or not. But she'd hung back and he knew better than to urge her forward. Hadn't been a year since Wash's funeral. And the rows of graves weren't comforting. Not to Mal, not to her.

Adalyn sighed. Mal heard her start talking. He tried not to listen in, but he could hear her. Her soft voice, those remorseful words as she apologized for not getting here sooner. His heart dropped, each word making it heavier. He wished he hadn't come. She wasn't trying to hurt him and it made it hurt more.

He suddenly couldn't remember if Mark and Jo believed in anything. What god had they prayed to the night before that battle? Had it made a difference? Mal would've said no, but it wasn't his place. Had Adalyn kept on believing? Was she still a follower, waiting for miracles?

Adalyn traced their names, feeling what was left of them. He could hear her sniffle. She was quiet for a moment. A long moment. She stood, staring down at the vidprojectors on their tops. Finally, she looked to Mal, her face lean and dry.

She walked back to them. He spared one glance at those graves before turning and leading them away. He wanted, more than anything, to get back to Serenity. Wanted to be on his hallowed ground. They walked back up to his ship, Jayne in the cargo bay on the bench press. Adalyn paused at the foot of the cargo bay ramp, turning back to look at the horizon.

Mal stopped and turned back to her side. She was just staring.

"Adalyn?"

"I think I should stay."

Mal straightened, "Your call. Ain't gonna make you get off. Ain't gonna make you stay. Boros is a good planet. Crawling with Feds, but most people will take care of a soldier's girl like you. Tell the truth, kinda hoped you'd stay."

She looked at him, "Why?"

"Seemed right. That'n River's taken a liking to you."

"She's a sweet girl."

"You could make this home."

She didn't say anything, just turned her gaze back to the horizon. Then her eyes went wide. She shoved him to the ramp, a bullet ricocheting overtop his head on the controls.

* * *

River knew Mal was okay. Adalyn had done what River wanted her to. But now, she had to make sure those inside weren't hurt, either. Simon came over to her. He'd heard the gunshot, too. Kaylee was with him. River just stared, knowing that the others would be safe if they were with Adalyn, just like Kaylee and Simon were safe with her.

"River?"

"Can't go out there."

"But the Cap'n's out there!" Kaylee squealed.

"He's with her."

"Her? Zoe?"

"No. Adalyn."

Kaylee and Simon shared a glance. River looked to them, "And Adalyn's mad."

* * *

Mal looked up, Adalyn's arm pressed against his chest. Adalyn rolled on to her side, looking out to see what Mal did. Men came around from either side of Serenity, one or two coming closer straightways. They had guns raised. Raised and armed and aimed at them. Mal shot a look behind him. Zoe and Jayne were there.

"Captain Reynolds, what an irony to see you here."

Mal didn't recognize the man as he stood. Adalyn stood, too, staying a pace behind him. The twenty or so men carrying larger-than-legal guns stood there, in front Serenity's gaping cargo bay like a cap. There wasn't much Mal could do. He wasn't within reach of the controls. Even then, the doors would take too long to close.

"That so?"

"Coming to a graveyard to die. Thought you'd skipped the quadrant after that little stint on Persephone."

Mal straightened, his back taut, "Niska send you?"

"He did."

"I notice he ain't here with you."

"Don't worry, you'll see him soon enough."

"You might want to think twice about this."

The man smiled. His teeth were immaculate and he was prim, the kind Niska would send. The ones who loved their job.

"Last count, Captain, we outnumbered you. That and your itty bitty pistol won't do much against our blasters. So, it might be you who reconsiders your situation."

Adalyn came up closer to him. He didn't care much why, only that she was in clean air for a shot. He wanted to push her back, keep her behind him. But his attention was more on the men aiming for him and his.

They all fell down. Adalyn grabbed his hand and yanked him back with her as she darted further into the cargo bay. Zoe put herself behind some crates, her gun out. Jayne flipped the bench, the bar and weights rolling across the plated deck. Mal threw his fist onto the control button. The doors started to close. Then the panel short-circuited, the shot from before finally doing the damage. The doors had only made it half way. Adalyn ducked behind the mule. She hadn't a gun with her. Mal came down below some crates as the first bullet grazed his leg. He cursed in Chinese, yanking his revolver from his holster. Zoe and Jayne traded fire. Mal did the same.

The men flooded into the cargo bay, some felled by the shots he and his crew were delivering. He ducked down, reloading his gun. He looked over to Adalyn. She was calm, her mind trying to pull another feat. He knew it had been her. She'd given them the chance to run for cover. She'd given them those few seconds they needed.

Zoe yelped. Mal looked over to her, seeing a small trail of blood coming from her shoulder. But she kept firing. Jayne was still behind the bench, firing off rounds from what guns he had on him. Mal loaded his gun before aiming over the crates. A bullet whirred past his ear and he ducked down. The crate wasn't the cover he needed.

Mal looked to Adalyn. She was hunched down behind the mule, unable to concentrate for the yelling, firing and hubbub. Her eyes tried to focus, tried to see those she was trying to exert control over, but she couldn't. Mal ducked down farther as a bullet whizzed by and ricocheted close to his head. He didn't want to rely on Adalyn. But he knew they wouldn't overpower Niska's men. Taking a deep breath, he darted over to Adalyn, exposing himself for a moment. As he crouched there next to her, he saw her face go blank. She knew. Somehow she knew what he needed.

She nodded, "Trigger me."

"You'll kill everyone in this room. Ain't got a mind to do that."

She took his hand, "I trust you."

He fumed for a moment, ducking randomly at the bullets that were flying past. He leaned over to her, cheek against cheek, and whispered. As he leaned back, he saw her face relax and her eyes start to smile in sadistic anticipation. Her mouth slightly ajar and her tongue pressing against the back of her teeth, she leered. He saw her change.

He sat there, not making eye contact. But he was watching her. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her become the weapon the Alliance had trained.

* * *

"_Hey guys. It's me. I finally made it here. Sorry it took me so long. I got kinda sidetracked. You'll never guess who I ran into. Your old sergeant. Mal Reynolds. He's, uh, he was kind enough to give me a ride, bring me here. At least you guys got a proper burial. That's one little favor, I guess. I wish you weren't gone. Hell, I wish I'd never left. I wanted to go with you two. I begged mom and dad to let me enlist. But I couldn't. Makes me wonder what would've happened if I had. You know, if I'd be here right now or if it'd be you two, kneeling over me. Maybe things'd be different…but I miss you both. All the time. It was you two that kept me going all those years. I tried…so many times to get out. Wanted to get back to you. Wanted to see you and mom and dad again. And now you're gone. But I'm okay, I guess. Kinda messed up from the Alliance, but…I'll be strong. Like you guys made me. At least I can do that part. Mark, I, uh, I tried to find Yvette. Haven't found her yet, but I'll keep looking. I'll find her for you. I guess there isn't that much else. I'm okay. I just wish I'd got to see you before you went on without me. I love you. Both of you. And I'll keep fighting for you_."

* * *

The firing stopped. There were shouts of disapproval from the men attacking. Jayne noticed and started to stand up with his gun. Mal whisked a curse his way, telling him to be still. Zoe stayed down, seeing Adalyn's displaced look.

She stood. Her hooded and cruel eyes turned on those across the way. She extended one tall, slender leg onto the mule and stood, coming back down on the other side. Mal peered over it, watching her. Zoe came up next to him.

"Sir? What did you do?"

"Don't make eye contact with her. _Dong-ma_?"

She nodded unsurely, looking back at Jayne. Mal did, too. Jayne army-crawled over to them, "What the hell is that chick doing?"

"No matter what happens, don't make eye contact. She'll look for it, don't give it to her. Got it?"

"Yeah, but what—?"

The screaming started. Mal peeked back over the mule and saw one man start to fall, blood draining from his ears. More fell as she tore apart their insides, made them bleed out. One man she started to peel skin away from muscle. Mal couldn't watch that one. For all the war horrors he'd seen, that was new. Slowly, men died. The screaming subsided and Adalyn was left standing there. He watched the last man fall, down the stairs, to the ground at her side. She stayed there for a moment. Mal averted his gaze down as she turned to him.

"Adalyn? I'm coming out, okay?"

She didn't say anything. He wasn't sure exactly how he was supposed to do this now that she was in the killing mode. But she'd trusted him enough to get in it. As he stood, he kept his gaze at her feet. True to the data, she didn't attack him. He got closer, knowing her steely gaze was on him. He could feel it. He wanted to look up, to see just how demented those eyes were. But he kept his sights on her feet. He found himself at her front. He leaned close, looking off to the left and away from her gaze. He felt her cool skin brush against his cheek. He lowered his voice. He whispered to her.

She fell into his arms.

He shifted, but stayed standing. Her face had blood splashes on it. Some blood had puddled at her feet and now coated her boots. Picking her up fully, he looked at the carnage. It was too much for a woman to do on her own. But she'd done it. He walked away from the fight, Zoe and Jayne following, looking back over their shoulders at the carnage Adalyn had wrought.

* * *

Mal sat next to her in her room. He knew the others would have questions about just what exactly he'd done. What he'd unleashed. But that wasn't his priority right yet. It was taking care of her. He'd made her a monster and now he had to take care of her. The door to her room opened. As he turned to snap at whoever it was, he saw River. She was staring at Adalyn.

"Hey. Come in."

River did and sat there at the bedside, looking at Adalyn's ashen face, "She's worried."

He looked between them, "Worried?"

"About you."

"Why me?"

"Because you played god. Used her to smite others. She worries for you."

"I don't blame her."

"But you were right."

"It don't feel so."

"Simon felt that way when he made me sleep. Felt guilty and ashamed. He had control over someone who shouldn't have been controlled."

"That so?"

"And now you feel it. You want her to wake up so she can tell you she forgives you. But she won't."

"Which part?"

"Forgive. We never do. We don't burrow, just don't live."

"Was me supposed to keep her safe."

"You will. That's what all gods do."

She smiled once to Adalyn's empty face before walking out. Mal watched her go, feeling a chill down his spine. He looked back to Adalyn, seeing her again for the first time. She wasn't much younger than Zoe, but she was young enough. Too young to know what she did. Too young to been through what'd been done. She shifted. He tried to smile, wanting that to be the first thing she saw.

"Hey."

She furrowed her brow, rubbed her forehead, "Ouch."

"Ouch? What ouch?"

"Headache."

He didn't say anything for a moment, "Maybe you bumped your head."

"Or maybe I just killed a small army."

"Or that."

She finally opened her eyes. His smile was gone. He rubbed her hand. She looked up at him, shifting beneath the covers.

"Is everyone okay?"

"The crew is, if that's what you mean."

"I'm sorry. For what you had to see."

"Don't apologize. Reckon you saved our lives. Your brothers did always say you were a handful."

"They were right," she said solemnly.

"Adalyn…"

"Thank you."

He stared at her, "What?"

"Thank you, for not apologizing. Don't ever apologize. Not about this."

"I turned you into the monster."

"Because I asked you to. And you brought me back. That's all matters in the end," she tried to smile, "Thank you."

She rolled over onto her side and purposefully cut her gaze from him. He watched her for a moment, knowing that she was done, that she'd ended the conversation.

"You'd better go see how everyone else is. Might be they're not keen about what happened."

He nodded, "Yeah. I'll do that."

He walked out, leaving her there in a ball. His feet dragged; he didn't want to leave her side now that he'd gotten her into trouble. No doubt she hated him almost much as herself right now. Not that he could blame her. His feet led him to the kitchen, knowing the others would be there, waiting to grill him with questions he didn't know how to answer.

"Captain?" Kaylee asked.

He looked up. He was there already, and no closer to figuring out how to answer what was about to be asked of him.

"How is she?"

He paused. That wasn't the question he expected. Nothing near what he expected. He nodded, "Fine. Awake. Got herself a bit of a headache."

"Does she need me to come down there?" Simon stayed close to Kaylee, one hand on her shoulder.

"No. Maybe if she ain't feeling so shiny later you can."

"Is she hungry?" Zoe held a plate of food in her hand, standing closer to the Captain than he remembered a second ago.

"Might be. Didn't ask."

Jayne took the plate from her, walking out of the kitchen. Mal followed him with his gaze, unsure, "Jayne?"

"Goin' bring her some dinner. Gal did it for me once."

Before he could be stared down for the sudden charity, he left, leaving the others there for a moment. Kaylee stood from the table, a smile on her face.

"I'm glad she's okay. If you need me, I'll be working on _Serenity_."

"I'll be down in the infirmary."

Mal watched them all walk out, noticing that Zoe wasn't. So now it came, the tough questions, the demanding ones. He started to say something, something he was sure made sense when he practiced it on the way up here.

"Zoe…"

"You don't have to explain, sir."

"Really?"

"I figured out enough. She made sure someone knew how to handle her, if things went wrong."

"Yeah."

"Good. Best someone knows. She trusted you enough to tell you. Enough to let you do that to her."

"I reckon that's so."

"She asked for us not to know."

"She did."

"Then I'm glad you didn't tell me."

"I didn't want to keep it from you…"

"I know. But I understand why you did. If she had to end up with anyone in the verse, it's best she wound up here."

"I asked her to stay," he blurted out.

Zoe smiled, "Wouldn't expect anything less, sir."

"Do you think it'll sit well with the others?"

"Should. If it don't, I'm sure Adalyn can give 'em a spin. Maybe change their minds for them."

Mal smiled, "Could be," he started to walk off.

"Sir. She trusts you. I trust you."

He looked to her, "For that I'm grateful."

* * *

Jayne decided it would be better to knock. The girl had just taken out twenty fully armed men and now she was in a bunk, probably not expecting visitors. Especially visitors that had, not a week ago, told her to scram. He knocked once, his gunning gloves muffling the sound.

"_Qing jing_."

He opened the door slowly. She was lying down, her head cradled between her hands. She saw him, sat up a bit and pulled the covers up.

"Hey, brought you some food."

She eyed him, "Okay. Thanks."

He moved farther into the room. He offered her the plate and she took it. He shifted there for a moment, just waiting for her to kick him out like he'd done to her.

"Did the captain tell you…"

"No. Just thought that you'd be hungry. Killin' people always makes me hungry."

She winced, "Yeah, I think it has that effect on some people."

"You okay?"

She tried to shrug it off, "Headache."

"From all that killin'?"

"Always happens. Use the brain too much and it tends to hurt."

"I can get the doc if you want."

"No, I'll be okay, thanks."

"Yeah, I ain't too crazy 'bout him."

"You and me both."

"So, you'n me, we're okay, right?"

She looked at him with a blank face.

"I mean, I just wanna make sure you ain't holding no grudges."

She kept her weary eyes on him, "No grudges."

"Good. 'Cause I ain't looking to be ripped apart on the inside."

She looked down to her plate and moved the protein around, "If I ever did kill you, Mr. Cobb, it would be because I wasn't in control. Not because I held a grudge."

"That ain't too comfortin'."

"No. I suppose it's not."

He shifted there for a moment, her eyes suddenly looking at him again. That gaze made you want to shrivel up and run. It made his skin tingle. He looked around the room, trying to break free of that gaze. He saw a rifle sitting on a chest.

"Ooh, is that a new one?"

She followed his eyes, "Yeah. .42 PSR autosight silk-trigger combat-ready pneumatic."

It gleaned under the soft bunk light. It was a rifle, a slim and slender one at that. He'd seen the predecessor, but never the actual gun. It was bronze with tarnish in every crevice. The barrel was punctuated with divot marks. The trigger hung from a dark wood grip. It was small, made to do precision work with a small machine.

"You could hit a horsefly from a hundred yards with that baby," he smiled.

"Come pretty close, too."

He looked back to her, "Can I?"

She nodded, "Sure. Ain't loaded."

He picked it up. It was like air. The flatness of it made it perfect for concealment and the shortness of it meant it could fit in a duffel. It could be used with one hand or two, but it was always made to get the job done.

"_This_ is a gun."

"She's one of my favorites," Adalyn winced again.

He noticed it and put the gun down. He wanted the chance to play with the weapon, see what it could do. If only he'd had it during the firefight…that would've been easier.

"Well, maybe I'll get to shoot it some time."

"Maybe not."

He started for the door, "Adalyn, you feel better."

She watched him for a moment, "Thank you. For the food."

He nodded and left, grateful to have touched that gun.


	30. A Lost Moment

The first thing he realized was that Adalyn was jumping out of bed. She had damn near bolted from under his arm and was now yanking on day clothes without bothering with the niceties of undergarments. He didn't much care if she was in a rush until he saw her load her PSR onto her back and her pistols onto her hips. He sat up a bit.

"What's that now?"

She was yanking on a boot, "Something's not right."

Jayne looked at the clock, "Madgirl's shift up there."

"That's how I know something's not right."

"Want I come with?"

"No. Stay here."

He was grateful for that, plopping his head back on the thin pillow. She dashed out, still adjusting the strap on her PSR now that it wasn't perfectly centered on her chest for the lack of support. He stayed there, ready to fall back to sleep mostly 'cause he was, unadmittedly, under the weather. Been a few days since he'd felt right and he knew Adalyn knew, but not much else had been done 'bout it.

He felt his eyes close and he was bridging that gap between here and there when the ship rocked hard and he almost fell out the bunk. He pulled on pants before grabbing a gun and heading for the bridge. He got onto the bridge about the time Simon and Kaylee did. Mal was yelling out orders and the first thing Jayne understood was Reavers.

Kaylee ran past him in her pajamas to head for the engine room. River was still piloting the ship, running her at full blast to get away. Jayne stood over Adalyn's shoulder, watching the rear vid panel. He cursed.

"They're still on us."

"Get us to atmo!" Mal yelled.

River was already steering closer to a rock. Zoe stood next to Mal, watching the view apathetically while they approached the world. The ship in the rear vid got closer, bigger, and Jayne felt the cold in his stomach get colder. Adalyn was standing, silent, and she seemed no worse for wear. The ship rumbled once they hit atmo and Jayne had to grab onto the overhanging clutch of wires to keep from stumbling. They all yelped when River banked them hard to run down towards a canyon.

The ship looming behind them opened a claw, a grapple coming out and ready to fire. Adalyn tensed. Jayne had seen her do this before only then it hadn't been under such pressure.

"They're firing!" Simon yelled to them.

The bright flash went off but the grapple never left the claw. Adalyn had both her palms braced on the console aside the screen and her eyes were boring into it.

"Can you bring them down?" Mal asked, looking back at her.

"Too big."

"Hold on!" River yelled.

Jayne grabbed both the wires and Adalyn when the ship damn near somersaulted to dive into the canyon. All Jayne could think was that Wash'd be proud to see little girl fly this bird the way he'd want her to. But the distraction was enough to give them an opening. Adalyn didn't have a chance to stop the EM cannon that fired off at them. The ship lurched and dropped. River managed to pull them up before they slammed into the canyon wall, but not before they skidded across the loose top soil at the edge of it.

They were still for a moment.

"River!"

Simon ran over to her. Her bleeding forehead made Adalyn stop and Jayne could feel her tense up. Mal looked out the window to see the Reaver ship blast past them, unable to make the sharp bank back until they were almost out of sight.

"They're coming back," he said.

"She needs to get to the infirmary," Simon said, lifting his sister from the seat after undoing her belt.

Adalyn turned to Jayne, "Check on Kaylee."

Jayne ran off, leaving her there with Mal and Zoe while Simon ran his sister down to the infirmary. Mal took Adalyn's arm and looked her in the eyes.

"I need to know if you can stop them."

"I'm good for it."

"Ship like that'll have at least two dozen. It's suicide," Zoe said factually.

"Not if I'm triggered."

"You can't ask us to do that to you," Mal said.

"River's out and even if she weren't Doc wouldn't let her do this. I'm all you got."

The ship rattled and skid back closer to the canyon edge when they got hit again by the cannon. Adalyn ran out the bridge, leaving Mal catching his balance before he and Zoe realized what she was going for.

She barged into the infirmary and Simon watched her ransack through a drawer, "What are you—"

"No time to argue. Fix her!"

She ran back out and bumped into Jayne. He was helping Kaylee down the stairs, "Where you going?"

"Getting the big gun."

She disappeared into her room and came back out with a large tote. The ship shook. Rattled and creaked and groaned as another cannon shot hit her. Adalyn had to brace herself against Jayne's weight bench when the ship lurched on the uneven and bombarded ground. She ran past Mal and Zoe. The ship didn't have enough to defend herself, so she would have to do it for her until the engine got going.

Without acknowledging Mal, she ran across the cargo bay and to the door. Mal watched her dumbly before he realized she had no intent on waiting in the ship for the bastards to come down. Jayne ran after her. Mal cursed under his breath, looking at Zoe.

They followed. Adalyn had already made it out, keeping herself on the ramp and unloading her cargo bag. Mal tried to yank at her and she tore away from his grip.

"Get back inside!"

"I can do this."

"Gorrammit, girl, get back inside."

She was putting parts together and Mal recognized what she was creating. It was a ground-to-air missile launcher. Where she'd hidden it and how she'd gotten it, he would have to ask at a later time. She clicked legs onto the barrel and laid herself onto the ramp, reaching into the bag and pulling out the huge round that slid into the gun. She clicked the chamber closed and put her eye behind the crosshairs.

"You got more'n one shot?"

"No."

He swallowed, watching the ship come in closer, their shots more accurate now that they were in better range.

The gun hissed and the whine of the barrel was almost ear-piercing. Mal felt a heavy thud in his chest when the launcher went off, and the trail of smoke lead to the Reaver ship. Adalyn took her face out from behind the crosshairs and watched with bated breath. Shooting small objects, people even, was nothing. But aiming a missile and trying to hit a moving target, now that was something the Alliance hadn't exactly trained her for.

The oncoming ship lurched and thicker, darker smoke came out from the underbelly of it to mix with the engine output. Mal smiled until he saw the ship not alter course. It was still heading for them. They fired back, one hit taking out a good part of the outcropping they had skidded to. The ship lurched again and Adalyn and the gun fell forward. The launcher fell off the ramp when Adalyn declined to catch it in favor of stopping her own forward momentum. Jayne toppled backwards before he caught himself and steadied. He reached out and grabbed at Adalyn's ankle, yanking her back from near the edge of the ramp.

"They ain't changing course," Zoe said, her matter-of-fact tone betrayed by what only Mal would recognize as fear.

With billowing smoke coming from their underside and their engine, they were like a black rocket hurtling towards _Serenity_. Mal couldn't get his ship to move, couldn't do anything that would change their course, so all he could prepare for was a possible fiery explosion.

Adalyn ran back inside. The three of them stayed there for a moment before the first handheld-shot hit the ground near the ramp.

"Back inside!"

Jayne closed up the hatch after getting inside. He looked for Adalyn but she wasn't anywhere in sight.

"Where'd she go?"

They heard a metallic grunt and it sounded to be over the cargo ramp. Jayne saw the blur of movement on the other side of the hatch doors. He pounded on the button about the time Mal saw sparks fry the system. The doors didn't budge. Adalyn looked at him through the small diamond window. She held up an empty syringe and Mal felt his heart drop.

"Gorrammit! Get back in here!" Jayne yelled at her.

Mal could see the black launch wires from the Reaver ship and bodies slide down them. The cargo ramp was still open and she planned on fighting them. Mal had no doubt that she could do it. That wasn't the issue.

He doubted Jayne would ever forgive her for it. Looking through the diamond window, they could see her pupils dilate so all there was, was black and white. No beautiful green.

She turned to fight.

Jayne tried to pry the hatch door by budging the lock she'd fried. Mal grabbed him off the door, "You let her in here now she'll kill the lot'a us!"

"You gonna let her out there to be killed?"

"They won't be able to touch her if she's triggered. You know that."

"So you's gonna bargain her sanity for our safety? That it?"

"Her choice. Not a body gonna make her do something she ain't willing to do herself."

Jayne planted both his arms across Mal's neck, pushing forwards and ramming him against the stairwell. Zoe stood and watched, more than aware Mal would handle it.

The sound of gunshots and inhuman screams made Jayne back off and run back towards the door. He jammed the butt of Vera into the slit of the door, trying to crank it open. Mal and Zoe just stood, letting him do it. If Adalyn had fried the system, it wasn't getting opened until she undid her damage.

More screams. Nothing but rolling gunshots. Mal counted them silently. The last round in her magazine went into a body and the screams and the gunshots stopped. Jayne stopped pounding the door with Vera's hard end. He looked out the diamond window to see what he could find on the other side.

He jumped back a bit when the doors slid open.

Mal found himself holding his breath to see Adalyn standing there, facing away from them all. Even Jayne didn't run to her side. She stood there. The Reavers laid piled around her, bleeding out and staining her clothes. Piled high enough so she had to step up to get out of them. Next to him, Zoe pumped her shotgun. Adalyn stood still again before turning to look at them from atop the mound she'd created.

"There won't be a need for that," she said.

Zoe lowered the gun's aim and Adalyn walked down the slope of bodies. Jayne met her halfway and he looked at her. Her eyes were still black and white. Her body was trembling. Mal could see that from the distance between them. Jayne touched her face and just stared at her.

She nodded, "I'm here. I'm okay," her eyes stayed downward.

"Stupid thing to do anyways," he said back at her.

She didn't smile, "I suppose."

Jayne spun with her in tow. He'd seen the advancing Reaver first. With his back to the creature, he shielded Adalyn from the blow of the spiked metal rod. As they fell towards the floor, Jayne's body crumpled under the blow with Adalyn under him, she grabbed the pistol at his thigh and aimed it.

The Reaver was forced back with a bullet in its forehead. It landed about the same time Jayne and Adalyn did.

The gun was still out when Adalyn finally moved from under Jayne. She put him back-down on the deck plating and dropped the gun.

"Jayne?"

He wasn't moving.

"Jayne! Jayne, Jayne!"

She was shaking him. Her frantic mantra of his name got the Doc's attention and he ran out. Mal looked at him. He could see as much as the boy that Jayne wasn't moving, eyes half open. Adalyn grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, shaking him as she screamed.

Mal walked over to her and tried to put a hand on her shoulder only to have her push him away. Simon knelt down next to her.

"Adalyn…"

"You do something!" she screamed at him.

Simon looked at Jayne, at his body, and then back at her, "He's gone."

"No! You fix it!"

Simon looked up to Mal and Adalyn transferred a hand to his shirt instead of Jayne's, "You fix him!"

"I can't."

She glanced up at Mal and he just stared back at her. The wet trails down her cheeks kept him silent. She looked at him with black eyes, "Make him do something."

"Addy…"

She shook her head, lying her top half over him, crying into his chest. Her back shuddered and settled. Mal wasn't sure if she'd stopped crying or had just passed out.

Simon put a hand on her back and she sat up straight. The look on Simon's face made Mal get down on a knee to look at hers. It was blank and her eyes were still dilated. She was staring at Jayne's body and nothing else. Simon took his hand off her shoulder. She remained still and focused.

"Addy?" Mal asked.

Silence.

Jayne's eyes blinked and he coughed. Adalyn's eyes closed and she fell onto her back. Mal and Simon both jumped back. Simon got his heart back into his chest quicker, reaching for the mercenary's neck and feeling a pulse.

"He's alive," Simon said.

"I see that," Mal said incredulously.

Simon reached for Adalyn's neck, "She is, too."

"What jus' happened?" Jayne grumbled.

Simon and Mal exchanged a glance. Simon reached around the back of Jayne's neck and prodded for a moment. Jayne batted his hand away.

"Hey!"

"Do you feel okay?"

"Feel better if'n you got your paw off'a me."

"You need to go to the infirmary," Simon said warily, "And I think she needs to be in her bunk."

Mal nodded and picked Adalyn up off the deck. She nuzzled against his chest when he held her. For all that had happened, she looked peacefully asleep. Jayne sat up and Simon had to keep him from running after them.

"She okay? What happened?"

Simon stared at him for a moment, "She's fine. Do you…remember what happened?"

"Don't otherwise I wouldn't be askin ya."

"You died."

Jayne stared at him and scoffed, "Yeah, sure."

"It's true, Jayne," Zoe said softly.

Jayne looked over his shoulder at her, "How'd that happen?"

Zoe looked to the Reaver still lying there with the bullet in his brain. Jayne followed her gaze.

"It was gonna attack her."

"You took the blow," Zoe said, "Looked like it broke your neck."

"Can't be. Wouldn't be sittin here."

"Adalyn did something. I don't know what," Simon said.

"She gonna be okay?"

Simon hesitated, "She brought you back from the dead. I'm more concerned with what it did to you."

"But she's gonna be okay, right?"

"Her pulse was strong…"

"So she's gonna be okay?"

"We'll see. Right now, I want you in the infirmary. Can you walk?"

He got up. Simon stood with him.

Zoe looked to Simon, "River okay?"

He nodded, "Just a cut. She'll be fine.

They walked to the infirmary. Simon kept his eyes on Jayne, watching to see that his sure steps didn't falter.

* * *

Understanding what had just happened, Mal found it hard to figure out why she looked so peaceful. Those eyes when she'd looked at him…Those were the eyes he'd seen more than once in his lifetime. Seeing loss reflected in her gaze was something he'd never wished to look upon. Until then, he'd thought she'd get over Jayne, or at least never be troubled by anything what happened to him. He'd been wrong before and would like to be wrong again if he didn't start reevaluating things.

He wiped the drying tears off her face. She moved a bit and opened her eyes to look at him dreamily, still clinging to sleep. He could see the ring of green around her pupils again and it looked beautiful. He reached down and took her hand. He smiled at her and she smiled half-consciously back.

"Hey. We win?"

He nodded, "Yeah."

"River okay?"

"Yeah. How you feeling?"

"Little fuzzy upstairs," she admitted.

"No surprise. Thanks, for doing that."

She nodded, eyes closing, "Not a problem."

"You rest now."

"Jayne mad at me?"

Mal hesitated, "Don't think that's the word for it."

"Hmm, he'll get over it."

"Rest, _bao bei_."

She nodded and let herself drift back to sleep. He held her hand for a moment longer, grateful she didn't know what she'd almost lost. She looked at ease with what she'd done, or at least what she remembered she'd done. Without hesitation, she'd done the deed, and he couldn't be mad at her for letting it happen.

* * *

Verifying a non-broken neck and spinal cord, Simon still didn't believe the scanner images he was watching roll out on the screen. Jayne was sitting on the spare cot, watching what Simon was trying to believe. With everyone besides Adalyn in the room, it was crowded, but workable. Kaylee had gotten her head bumped in the wreck, and Mal had just walked in from setting Adalyn down in her bunk.

Simon looked at him, "Does she remember?"

Mal shook his head, "Don't seem that way."

"I still don't get it," Kaylee spoke up.

"I'm not sure any o'us do," Mal allowed, "You got any clarity on it, Doc?"

"There's no evidence of what she did. It doesn't even look like there was ever any damage."

"His neck was broken," Zoe said.

"I know. But if I was just looking at these? There's nothing there to tell me that. Whatever Adalyn did, it isn't visible on here."

"Could you'd've done it? Medically?" Mal asked.

"Repair a broken bone, yes. But the spinal cord? Medicine's come a long way, but we can't repair the spinal cord. Not when it's been severed. Nothing I could've done would've brought him back."

"You know it's creepy as all hell being talked 'bout like'm still dead," Jayne crossed his arms over his chest.

"How do you think she did it?" Zoe ignored the merc.

Simon leaned against the counter, "She still had the drug in her system. It could've been triggered by the stress, it could've been something she was…programmed to do. I don't know. All I know is that she was 'designed' to kill people."

"You think she just did the killing backwards?" Kaylee asked.

They all looked at her. Kaylee shrugged, "Just saying: she's s'posed to be all mind-killer. She's said that she killed and made it look like a heart attack or a…an..aneu…anur…"

"An aneurysm," Simon nodded.

"If she can do that, don't it mean she can do it backwards? Put stuff back where it belongs?"

"There's a big difference between making someone's brain bleed and putting their spinal cord back together," Simon almost laughed.

"You think it's possible?" Mal asked.

"Nothing of what she just did is possible. I don't know how she did it. I don't even know if she would be able to do it again. I don't have that kind of knowledge of what she's been programmed to do."

"So, I was dead? Ain't there supposed to be some of worrying about how I'm feelin 'bout all this?" Jayne quipped.

"You're walkin and talkin. You got a complaint you wanna file?"

"Just sayin. She did it. Not like we all gotta make a big deal outta it. She don't remember? I say we don't tell her."

"No?" Zoe asked.

"Next time someone kicks it and she can't pull this off, she'll be guilty as anythin. Don't want that for her."

"Don't say it often, but I'm agreeing with Jayne on this one," Mal allowed.

"Captain, you can't be serious. She's done something impossible. If we want answers about it, I need to talk to her. She has to know. At the very least she needs to know what she's capable of. If she can play…God…she should know how to control it."

"Don't think she can or ever'll be able to. She'd'a done it by now if she knew about it. Plenty of chances for her to change a kill."

"What if she does remember?" Kaylee asked.

"Then we see how she wants to handle it. Right now, I'm content to leave it alone."

Mal walked out of the infirmary and Simon followed him, not so content to leave any of it alone. They made it to the kitchen before Mal turned to him with a tired face.

"I know."

"You know what?"

"Took her less'n a minute to bring him back. Sure it crossed your mind it would take less time to do it the forward-way."

Simon nodded, "I just worried that you're…you're thinking of what she needs, not about all of us. Yes, she always has a gun and she could very well kill us all with that, but at least we'd see that coming. Killing us the reverse of how she just saved him wouldn't give us a chance."

"Don't mean we gotta turn our back on her."

"If River had done this, you wouldn't say it like that."

Mal rose to his full height indignantly, "Beg pardon?"

"You have some soft spot for Adalyn and you're letting her put everyone in danger. She's uncontrollable. You see that, don't you?"

"She's crew. Like you. Like your lil' sis. Never once have I said anything else. About any of you."

"You were ready to leave us on Beaumonde—"

" 'Cause you chose to be left! You don't want your sis doing the dirty work? Fine. I abide with that but only because Adalyn does. She knew River wouldn't be up to facing down another pack of Reavers. And even she had been, Adalyn would'a done what she done anyway because you would'a kept lil' sis behind closed doors. You bargained for River's safety with me once. Seem to remember you'd be willing to go out an airlock so long as I left her alone. Terms have changed. But your sis still stays safe. She flies this boat and that's all I ask of her. But don't you think for a jot that wouldn't change if Addy weren't here."

"So you're saying I should be thanking her?"

"I'm saying that considering it could'a been River triggered out on the ramp, you might wanna give Adalyn a little benefit of the doubt. Remember a few bullets what would'a hit you she not been intent on stopping them. Same can be said for myself."

Simon nodded, irked but not irate. He stared Mal in the eyes for a moment longer, "I'm just saying that she's more dangerous than my sister ever was."

"Got no doubt 'bout that. So long as she's pointing the other direction when she goes demented, I got no quand'ry with her. Maybe if you felt the same, she wouldn't be so intent on punching you every time you opened that mouth."

Simon bit his tongue from the remark he wanted to make while Mal walked away to the bridge. He stood there, unsure of where exactly to move to. The infirmary was crowded and he'd have to look Kaylee in the eyes after another upsetting conversation with the captain. His room was empty and cold. The engine room would be homey, but he wouldn't fulfill much purpose there.

In the moment his feet moved, he knew where he wanted to go. He didn't bother knocking on Adalyn's door. He just walked in. Jayne was still in the infirmary, Zoe, Kaylee and River there with him. He was grateful River was sedated. It would be easier for her to be asleep through the healing process. All of the healing process.

He sat on the desk chair that had been moved next to Adalyn's bed. She stirred and rolled over, her brow furrowing to see him there instead of…whoever it was she wanted to see.

He stared at her for a moment while she rolled back to face the wall, "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked tiredly.

"For doing that. For not making River do it."

"She was hurt. She okay?"

"Yes. It was just a deep cut. She's sedated. But she's fine."

"Good."

"Still, thank you."

"Send Jayne in when you leave," she said brusquely.

He nodded, accepting the dismissal. He stood and looked at her for a moment more. He saw the scar on her shoulder. Where she'd been shot because of him. It amazed him that she didn't have a single scratch on her besides old scars. He supposed that was where she and River had some advantage. They could be insanely good at fighting without much thought to it. He was lucky to get out of a fight with anything less than a black eye and a broken bone of some sort.

"I'll go get him for you."

She nodded, "Thanks."

"Do you want anything for the headache?"

"No."

He nodded and walked out. Jayne was at the infirmary door when he got there and he paused, "She's asking for you."

"She okay?"

"Even if she was, she wouldn't tell me. Just don't…She's got a headache and there's probably some of the drug still in her system."

"No shit, Doc."

Jayne brushed past him and Simon smiled, defeated, to Kaylee. Zoe, he noticed, was absent. He sat on the fold-down seat and sighed. Kaylee took his hand, sitting on the counter.

"Get in a fight with the cap'n?"

"Kind of. Not a bad one."

"Get in a fight with Adalyn, too?"

"No. That I managed to avoid."

"Well, that's something. She didn't even hit you."

"Maybe I deserve it."

"Hey, we all gotta do what we gotta."

He looked at her, "Your head feeling better?"

"Just a little bump. Not a worry."

He stood up, standing in front of her, and kissed her forehead. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. He held her, let himself be held too, and kissed her again.

"She cried."

"I heard it."

"I've never seen her look like that."

"I know."

"Jayne died to protect her and she cried. I don't think she should forget that. Is that wrong?" he pulled back to look her in the eyes.

She shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe it's better if she don't know."

"I wish we knew. If she remembered."

Kaylee kissed him, "Leave it be. It'll settle out."

He kissed her back, "I might need some preoccupation."

"I can arrange that."


	31. Lost Memories

Every once in a while, she forgets there was a life before this one. It's not that she didn't have a good one, it's just so different and far removed from her life now. If what she does now could be called a life. She knows there are moments the others look differently on her because she had that life. But they don't know. Not even Simon and little, sweet River. They all think of her life as just one great timeline. This happened, followed by that, and this now. But she can't think of it that way. She isn't old, but she feels it. Twenty-nine. She shouldn't be feeling old at that age. She still had years ahead of her. But this life isn't what makes her feel old. It was the part of life before this. The testing and the tormenting and the judging…all that took away her old life. There was her old life, there was the Academy, and now she's here. Three distinct lives and three distinct women that went with each life. But the life she has now is nothing if not complete; she forgets what she used to be because she's so involved in what she is now. Which, she supposes, isn't necessarily a bad thing.

She forgets her name, too. That irked her. River always calls her "Hope" because that's who she saw when they met again. That's how River will always remember her as. The woman who shared a cell with her at the Academy. The witty, trouble-making and altogether caustic rebel that kept them safe in that dreadful place. So, to River, she'll always be Hope. But she doesn't remember it quite that way. Hope isn't who she was at the Academy. Hope's who she was before the Academy. She was the regional princess, playing with money and suitors and oh-so-many clothes. She was the girl with impeccable tastes. Hope was that girl: the one who was envied at finishing school and sought after by all the rich bachelors. She was a girl of decency and modesty. But River never met that Hope. None of them did. They never actually get, for a second, that Hope and Adalyn are nothing alike and that meeting the former would mean the latter being gone.

She forgets her manners. Adalyn does. Hope never would have. Manners were what kept you in good company. Manners let everyone know that you were well-schooled and deserving of the riches you displayed. She finds herself eating without a napkin on her lap, or without chopsticks all together. Fingers do just fine sometimes. She'll lurk in dark corners among new company and not introduce herself. Or she'll not wait for the introduction and make her own bridge, not relying on the fancy etiquette of a common friend doing the initiation. There are so many little nuances that she sees Simon take part in and she wishes she could remember a time when those motions were second nature to her. She has to dig deep, think hard, and remember what polite is. Simon doesn't. He's slowly chosen to act more like the crew. His relationship with Kaylee and his near-death experiences have hardened him only a little. But Adalyn never had a choice. Hers were stripped away and nothing comes natural to her anymore.

She forgets about time. Time wasn't so important back there, at that dreadful place. Time came and went and she forgot how much meaning it could have outside those white-washed walls. Coming out, she'd refused to let time slip away from her ever again. Clocks and walls of them, no less. She needed time. She needed to feel time. River had helped her with that. That exercise had taught her how to forget about time again, only with control. She could ignore time and find herself peacefully unaware of anything except herself.

She forgets to let go. Letting go wasn't something Hope ever had to deal with. Everything was there even until Mark and Jo left for the army. Even then, they were never really gone. Then Adalyn was forced to let go because there was no choice. Let go of clothes and manners and luxuries and everything else that she still considered hers when she was kidnapped. Letting go means losing something and she can't afford to lose much more. It means not having something and she doesn't have much to give up. Her guns. Her few clothes. Her sparse jewels from a burned house. Those little waves that survived the fire. No, she can't let go of any of that and that's something that no one can understand. She can't let go because it makes her angrier, stronger, and that's something that she needs.

She forgets about sanity. Days can melt away and turn into rampant nightmares when things go wrong. Her brain plays tricks with her and she wishes it wouldn't. There are some things that don't ever make sense. Things Adalyn knows Hope shouldn't know, and still she forgets about where exactly that line is drawn. River understands that. The line. River's line is concrete even though she's half-insane. Adalyn doesn't have that comfort. She can't hide behind insanity and let her troubles show because if she did, they'd be rid of her. The crew wouldn't be willing to take chances. And why should they? She was nothing but a convenience. Nothing more than that. She hates it. Hates that sanity comes and goes and when it goes Adalyn tends to do things that would make Hope cry and hide. When sanity is gone, there's nothing to stop her from hurting them all and that scares her more than she'd like to admit.

She forgets about emotions. She'd become thick at that place. Emotion just got you into trouble. She learned to keep it in and never display it. No matter what the doctors did, or the guards did, she didn't cry. Oh, she had bawled the first month or so. But after that, her tough skin had developed quick and nothing had ever really gotten under it since. Then she met this crew. More specifically, Jayne. She'd remembered one thing. Lust. She lusted. She wasn't ashamed to admit it. Even for all that Hope forgot about her old life, Adalyn was drawn to people in a position of power. So small of her world to think he was the most powerful man in it now. He wouldn't have even registered on her radar when she was Hope. But Adalyn found his power intriguing. More than that, she found actual emotion when he touched her. Sparks of hate or lust or happiness. Little moments when she actually felt something. When he made her feel that way without ever meaning to. It had been easy to get into his bed, looking for more than just a spark. Only she'd thought she'd be satisfied with just bed. Now, it was more. And now, Adalyn wished it had never gotten so complicated.


	32. Lost Feelings

Inara looked up at the unexpected knock. It wasn't Mal. That she knew. One he almost never knocked and two it was too light-handed for even him. She stood, putting some semblance of normality over her features before answering the door. Shocked as she was to see Adalyn standing there, she made way for the woman to come in.

"Adalyn. A surprise."

"I know. I hope you don't mind."

"No. Of course. Please, come in."

"I can't stay long. I'm kinda on a timetable."

Inara stared at her for a moment, "Of course. Was there something you needed?"

"Something he needs."

She rolled her eyes, unable to keep from doing it, "Did he send you here to apologize for him?"

"No. And I doubt he would apologize. But he needs something and I think you're the only one in a position to give it to him."

"And what might that be?"

"Trust."

Her brow furrowed, "I'm afraid I'm not seeing your point. You go into fights with him almost as much as Zoe does."

"Not that kind of trust."

"Then what kind?"

"You know he would give you his soul if he hadn't already sold it. His heart too, if he thought he still had one. He would give you everything if he could trust it wouldn't destroy you."

She was silent. She'd never heard such a thought, let alone allowed herself to believe it might be true.

"He loves you. But from a distance he can be sure you're safe. Be sure you're never hurt because of him. And the fact that a Companion relies on intimacy for currency…if you left your life for him, he'd hate it because it meant you gave up that one last shining gem you had in your dowry. But he's not about to invest in you when your life revolves around bedding others. You see what I mean?"

"For a woman of such apathy, you do seem to notice things."

"We're not so different, you and I."

"Evidently."

"Correct me if your feelings don't revolve around the same conundrum."

She dropped her gaze and looked at the floor. How Adalyn had picked it all up, every nuance and every minute detail that made life harder, she had no idea. It had only been a few weeks since she'd come back. Things had almost fallen into that beautiful acceptance that there had been before. Before complications.

"I'll say your silence is a yes. Not too much of a leap to say you have the same exact concern he does. You're afraid you would let him down whichever path you chose."

"And why are you here? To set things right?"

"To make sure you know what he feels."

"And you're his champion."

"His friend."

"I hope he knows what kind of loyalty he's garnered."

"I doubt it. But that's why he's Mal."

"And as his friend, what conclusion would you find acceptable to this end?"

"Tell him what you feel. Just knowing will make it better."

"Or worse."

She seemed to consider that. Her eyes softened, "You know, you always remember the things you didn't get to say more than the ones you did. When they're dead, gone, you go over it in your head, repeating it and wishing there was something concrete that told you they could hear you. But there's not. So you just…rerun it in your mind to no end, thinking of all the things you would've said if you knew the end was coming. Call me a romantic, but that end seems worse."

"I didn't mean…"

"I doubt many do. Please. As a favor to me. Just tell him."

"What should I say?"

"I know what I would say. You have to figure it out for yourself."

Inara watched her. The strong resilient woman was faltering and her body was weakening at the mere thought of speaking unspoken things. This was more than just her wishing for Mal's happiness. What else it was Inara couldn't be entirely sure, but it was more than just friendly concern. Masterful as Adalyn was at body language, she was showing kinks in her defense.

"And what difference will it make to you?"

Adalyn shrugged, "Happy captain means I don't get in trouble. Works out for everyone."  
"You want us together, I assume."

"I admit it. I live vicariously through the actions of others when I can't do it myself."

"And what confession would you make to him?"

She smiled winsomely, hiding what Inara had started to see beyond advice, "Not too far from yours, to be sure."

Inara stared at her, "But you…"

"No reason to make more complications."

"Adalyn…"

"Please. Make this easier on me. Give me a reason to give this up. I've got something with Jayne. And that's enough for me."

"How do you…you need to tell him how you feel, too."

"No. He would choose me to get at you. Because he couldn't drag me down. It would be easy. Not love."

"You really have everything figured out, don't you?"

She shrugged, "Not entirely. Haven't figured out how to kill the doc without going down with the blame. But, there's always tomorrow."

Inara stared dumbfounded for a moment. Then Adalyn smiled and Inara felt the uneasiness fade away.

Adalyn turned quietly and left, the Companion wishing for a moment that she hadn't. Considering who and what Adalyn had been before the Academy, it wasn't too far fetched to think she had done Inara the equivalent of a social favor. Inara smiled to herself to think that, if Adalyn ever called her on it, there would be an interesting bet involved.


	33. Lost Hope

**A/N: This is the beginning. How she got out. Not everyone can escape as awesomely as River did ;-)**

* * *

The officer circled the woman. She was drugged, limp. Her hair was matted. Her lids were drooped, with bright green eyes under dark, long lashes. She was thin. But not tiny. Six feet tall, muscular and every bit the weapon she was supposed to be. Her arms were toned and the little he could see of her abs had distinct lines and outlines. A weapon. His weapon. The doctor looked at him while he considered her.

"How strong is she?"

"Physically, she's amazing. Twice the norm for a girl her size. She's been able to lift three hundred without breaking a sweat."

"And mentally?"

"Like nothing we could've imagined. She can use her telekinesis on a microscopic level. Aneurisms and heart attacks are her specialty. Heavy lifting isn't out of the question, either. She's versatile, just what you need."

"How many can she kill at once?"

"Range is almost without limit. We've only gotten her to two hundred specimens at a time. But we're sure she's capable of much more."

"And the drugs?"

"Keep her compliant, of course. She looks inert now, but when she's hardwired to yourself or whoever, she's deft and deadly."

"How often does she need to be drugged?"

"Twice a day. She usually exhibits signs of consciousness before she can actually cause unintended damage. But she's a solid weapon. Just what you need, I would imagine."

He smiled, eyeing her, "Just what I need."

"Once the paperwork is cleared, you'll be given full access to her control techniques. Safe words and commands and the like. She's the girl for your job."

"Good. Then I suppose I'll have this one sent to my home."

"Of course. The shuttle can drop her off tomorrow."

The officer walked out, leaving the woman and the doctor in the room. She would accomplish such great things. She would become the ensuring weapon in his arsenal and be the thing that kept him and his in power.

* * *

She'd rigged it. The scanner. It would read a cold, dead body only because she wanted it to. The sirens would go off and the orderlies would come rushing in. Night shifts were always so predictable. Always just tight enough.

She'd heard rumors of a conspiracy. Reavers or whatever the hell those things were called. She didn't know and she didn't care. All she knew was that, whatever the hubbub was, it had made security at night less oppressive. She'd counted the night shift many times before and now it had dropped down to less than half.

The orderlies rushed in and saw her lying still. They never checked to see if she was strapped down. They only cared that she might be dead. And with a multi-million dollar contract on the line, they couldn't risk losing her.

She hit them both at once. They fell and she gave a good kick to each temple. She left. She knew the outline. She'd seen it on occasion and memorized it from there. One security checkpoint and two levels up was freedom. She didn't run. Running caught attention. She slipped into a utility closet and took a uniform over her hospital gown. It was loose, but it made her not so stand-outish. She walked back out, a mop and a bucket in her grip and other cleaning supplies in her pockets. No one paid her any mind because she had just gone from prized assassin to maintenance worker. The first security checkpoint didn't even bother her. No asking questions. Just ignored.

She took the elevator up two floors, finding herself seeing a night sky for the first time in almost ten years. She could see the final doors. The last little hurdle. She put aside the bucket and the mop, moving as if to clean doors with a roll of towels in her pocket. She started with the outside and never came back in to finish the job.

Simple and easy and no hassle.

The orderlies would sound the alarm when they woke up or were found. She had until then to get as far as she could.

Wandering around the city, she saw some stores that were still open. She stole clothes, the merchants never the wiser. Respectable clothes and a little smidge of makeup to hide her clammy skin. Nothing more than that. She tied her hair up and found herself facing a new woman. She walked on, dumping the uniform in a compactor.

The ships at the docks would be able to get her somewhere. But nothing fancy. A ship without questions or need for ident cards. That's what she wanted. She walked along, finding one or two ships that were due to take off in the morning. She had two options: sit tight and wait a few days or go now. The authorities were bound to search ships going out in the morning simply because they would assume she'd run. Give it a week and maybe getting aboard would be easier. New ships would come in who hadn't heard about the searching, and they wouldn't care. But staying made her nervous. She could only hide for so long in a city like this. Scanners and captures everywhere. Damn civilization. Taking away the ease of hiding. But waiting would also give her a chance to get together some small bit of money. Otherwise, she was a non-paid passenger and most crews would take it out of flesh instead of coin. She didn't want that.

She waited a week. It had been rough, and there were moments she held her breath and prayed for concealment. But she'd done it. Found some spare coin and some pick pocketing. A week, and she had enough for a one way ticket to some god-forsaken planet. Enough so she wouldn't be expected to pay her way in the bunks of crew.

She could just stay hidden away on a little planet. Get a little job and a little money and find her family. They would be waiting for her. The idea that she could only contact them, not see them, made it harder. The feds would trail her if she went to her home. So she couldn't go home. She could only disappear. Become the assassin of choice and blend in with wherever she landed.

She had a name and it took her a few days to remember it. But she couldn't go by that name anymore. Not that name because when she did, it wasn't her. She wasn't that girl. She was the new girl. So the name would have to change. Her middle name had always been pretty, and she doubted many would care if it was her real name or not.

So, she was no longer that girl. Now she was this girl. And she would disappear until they stopped trying to find her. Disappear until age had changed her face and time had dulled away the bulletins. Until time had dulled all Hope.


	34. A Lost Chance

With the seconds counting down, Adalyn waited. Little ticks of time that seemed to go on forever. Her skin was clammy. Her gut was frenzied. If she wasn't already sick from the breakfast that hadn't stayed down, she'd been sick again with the anticipation. But she waited.

The little green light made her drop the stick. She stood there, standing at the head, looking on the floor and watching the message flash on the green-lit screen. It was a joke. Some cruel joke that she hated herself for believing. She quickly picked up the stick and tossed it into the drain, flipping the switch that ground it up for the disposal tube.

She slid the door open furiously and found River there waiting for her. She stared at the younger girl and couldn't find anything to say. She should've known better than to doubt the girl. She'd just hoped the instinct had been wrong. That River had gotten the impression off Kaylee or hell, even Inara. But River wasn't wrong.

River hugged her. She couldn't return it. When River pulled back, Adalyn just stared at her and shook her head.

"I won't say anything. You know that," River said quietly, her eyes downcast.

Adalyn brushed past her and got to her room, closing the door before she threw up. A knock on the door didn't make her take her head away from the sink.

"You ready in there?" Mal asked.

"Not going."

"You sure? Been a while since we got a chance to get out in the world. Might do some good."

"Not going," she reiterated.

"Suit yourself."

She heard him walk away. The crew was leaving the ship. River she knew would be going. Jayne would go since there was a promise of alcohol. Zoe would follow Mal. And so would Kaylee which meant she and the Doc weren't staying either. Inara wasn't due back for a few more hours. She would at least have privacy for the while it took to regain her composure.

When the cargo bay doors closed, she left her room and moved to the infirmary. She methodically went through the drawers and looked for the drugs she wanted.

She found the first and set it aside, the second taking a little bit longer since the boy had the good sense to keep it hidden. The two vials sat on the counter and she sat on the medcot, staring at them. Not because she was unsure of the formula, but because she didn't know if she wanted to take them at all.

"Adalyn?"

She looked to see Inara standing in the doorway, "Miss Serra."

"Just Inara, is fine. Is everything all right?"

"Fine."

"Do you need the doctor?"

Adalyn scoffed, "No. That I don't need."

Inara gave a gentle smile, "I suppose I should've known that."

"It's not like I hate the boy. I just don't like him."

"Well, I was going to have some tea. Care to join me?"

Adalyn looked at the vials sitting on the counter before looking back at Inara, "That'd be nice."


	35. Lost Birds Never Sing

**A/N: This is a long one. A VERY long one. But it covers a lot of ground. Beware and be warned!**

* * *

The gunshots everywhere made it hard to concentrate, but Mal had the distinct feeling that he and his crew were caught up in a terrorist-versus-Alliance riot without any guarantee of who would find them to be enemies. More importantly, which side would shoot first and ask questions later. He held Kaylee's hand tight in his, yanking her along here and again to make their way back to the parked ship. They ducked behind some larger, toppled crates that held them safe from the crossfire between rebels and soldiers. He held his gun in one hand, his precious Kaylee in the other. Shots ricocheted off the crates; one went through the wood and managed to knick his shoulder with nothing more than a graze. He peered around the crate to see _Serenity_ with a locked cargo bay. Likely Zoe had battened down the hatch when trouble started brewing. Kaylee huddled next to him, looking around.

"Cap'n! What 'bout Simon?"

"Boy'll make it back on his own!"

"But—"

He saw an opening, "Run!"

He yanked on her hand and they ran across the last bit of dirt road that led to the Firefly. Putting his back to the closed cargo ramp, he let Kaylee open the door while he leveled his gun for any threat. The door opened and Kaylee ducked in. He got in a moment later and saw Zoe and Jayne in the cargo bay, strapped up with bigger guns than normal. Zoe's features flashed relief and concern all at once.

"Report," he barked, looking at his wounded shoulder.

"No sign of River, Doc or Adalyn."

"Simon said he was heading down to the market, on the other side of the docks," Kaylee said frantically.

"Likely Adalyn and River are together."

The door opened again and Mal turned to see the two women run in. Adalyn had a busted lip, but her guns were still in their holsters and she looked fine otherwise.

"You two okay?" Mal asked.

"Shiny and free," Adalyn sighed.

"Cap'n, we need to get Simon," Kaylee begged.

"Boy's not back yet?" Adalyn asked.

"Haven't seen him."

"Sir, if we're gonna get out of here, we need to leave now before the gunships come," Zoe said; Mal was sure he wasn't the only one who heard the unspoken half of that sentence. He nodded, knowing perfectly well that the moment the big guns of the Alliance dropped in, there would be no getting off the rock and no chance of hiding the fugitives that were aboard.

"I'll go for the boy."

Mal looked to Adalyn, "What?"

"You need to get off the ground. Go. I'll stay and look for him."

"It ain't safe," Jayne argued.

"Gotta go with Jayne on that one. Not likely you'll be able to hide from the Alliance."

"Just come get us when the trouble dies down."

"Could be a days—a week!" Kaylee protested.

"You can't afford anyone else to go, Mal. I'll be fine."

Mal huffed and looked between Adalyn and Jayne. It was likely he could send either one of them and not worry about his crew being put in danger from a lack of protection, but Jayne wasn't exactly the brainy type to keep out of trouble and there was no doubt Adalyn was more skilled at sneaking around undetected. And he didn't think Simon was ready yet to be on his own in an Alliance-governed riot world.

He nodded. Adalyn moved to River, "Do you have a sense on him?"

"Hiding by red. Lots of red and behind it."

She nodded and Mal only hoped she understood what River had said more than he did. She readjusted her guns and ran to her bunk to retrieve her favored PSR.

"I'll call when trouble dies down," she said, sliding the sniper rifle into her back strap before buckling the front of it. She shifted it and checked the ammunition on the sidearms.

"Be careful. Don't feel like breaking you or the boy outta lockdown."

She smiled, "I'd kill them first."

Jayne handed her another small handheld and a few extra clips he had stashed on his belt. She moved to the door and looked out before turning back to look at Kaylee.

"I'll keep him safe; I promise."

Kaylee nodded and that was all Adalyn needed. She popped the door open and ran out, disappearing from view. Mal slammed the door shut again and looked to River.

"Get us off the ground."

Her booted feet were already running up the stairs and he was grateful she could preemptively know what he was going to order. Zoe came up next to him.

"I'll keep an eye on the security links."

He nodded, "Make sure they don't get caught."

With Zoe moving off to keep an eye on the prisoner lists for the world, mostly to make sure Simon and Adalyn didn't fall among them, he walked over to Kaylee, "Don't worry none, _xiao mei mei_. Adalyn'll take care of him." She nodded, unconvinced. He sighed, "You trust her. She'll bring him back safe."

"What if he's hurt? I mean, Adalyn don't barely even like him that much."

Mal had to agree, "Don't mean she'd let him get hurt. Hurt already, she'll take care of him. Girl's the best one to save him if he's in a bad way of being. You know that. I need my pilot and I need my mechanic. Got Zoe to think and Jayne to shoot. She's the only one what I could spare."

"You think she'll find him?"

"I think she'll find him."

The ship rumbled off the ground and Mal watched his bright, cheerful Kaylee sink to know that they'd left not one, but two crew behind. He gently put his hand on her shoulder and she gripped it, looking forlornly into his face.

"You okay, Cap'n?" she looked at the graze.

"Be fine. You?"

"Better when they're back aboard, is all."

He hugged her with one arm, kissing her on the forehead, "Don't worry none 'bout either of them. Folk don't come smarter or tougher. Except for Zoe…and me, of course."

"And River."

"And River. Come on, see to that engine and have a little wine. Don't let it bother you."

He led her up the stairs to her beloved engine room, having a small drink with her and grateful that at least she was able to dote on the heart of the ship if not her own.

* * *

Adalyn decided firmly and quickly that she wouldn't shoot anybody. It just wasn't worth the waste in ammunition because, at the moment, enough idiots were doing it for her. She ducked and dodged bullets enough to realize that it didn't matter who was on who's side; bastards were just shooting everyone they thought looked dangerous. She quickly found it easier to sneak behind stacks of old Blue Sun products that had been left for shipping. She wished River had been a little more specific about what red Simon was hiding near, but she doubted there was much the girl knew about the exact location. Her brain wasn't that perfected.

The red tarp of a jewelry store caught her attention. She doubted the boy would be looking for himself, but Kaylee was a different matter. She jogged over, stopping once to duck behind another set of crates when a small squad of riot patrollers ran past with heavy-armed militia in tow. It wouldn't matter. The rioting would continue so long as the terrorists felt that had a chance. Which in all likelihood, would be until every last one was dead.

She threw her foot against the obviously bolted door and found that it gave after the first try. She looked around, seeing that a good portion of the jewelry cases had already been looted.

"Simon!"

There was no direct answer. But she saw movement and pulled out a gun. Keeping it aimed to the sky until she saw fit to fire, she moved to see what was behind the jewelry counter.

The clerk yelped and raised his hands in defeat to see her, "Please! Take whatever you want!"

She kneeled down next to him while holstering her handheld. He wasn't beaten, she was grateful for that, "I'm looking for a guy."

"Please…I don't know anything!"

"Now, how could that be considering you don't know what he looks like yet?"

The rough-skinned man, oriental in his eyes, continued to tremble. She rolled her eyes and gave a little shake to his collar, "Look, I'm not the one you need to worry about. I'm trying to find a guy. Dark hair, my height, blue eyes. Probably in a vest with a white shirt under. Walking like he's got a stick up his _pee-goo_. Seen him?"

"He was in here, before the fighting…but I don't know where he went."

"When did he leave?"

"The explosion. He dropped everything and ran."

Adalyn cursed the doctor for his damn desire to help people. Likely the boy had run straight into trouble, trying to help the injured instead of getting himself back to the ship were he belonged.

She nodded and left the man trembling. She ran out and tried to remember where the first explosion had gone off. She didn't bother running behind crates. She just wanted to get out towards the first explosion sight. Ducking in and out of screaming crowds, she saw the huge mess of bodies that had been set down from the trade store building.

The sand was red with blood. Alliance troops were trying to control the chaos while firing randomly at the points where gunshots came from. The bystanders in between were the ones who got snipped by the crossfire.

She ducked and covered her head when another explosion went off. The postal building went up in flames and a bit of the stone and brisk rubble flew around, hitting those who hadn't ducked down. The officers and the militia went to the new explosion with guns out in front. She rolled her eyes at their inefficiency and continued on to look around the scattered bodies.

* * *

Simon was well aware that being alone in this situation wasn't the best of scenarios. Happy as he was that Kaylee was safe with Mal looking at stores and River was hanging around Adalyn, he found himself a little more than anxious to get back to the ship and see them all there in one piece. The first explosion had torn him away from the beauty he was thinking of buying for Kaylee and he'd found himself doctoring out in the streets, triaging who he could. But the inability to get anywhere without running near Alliance had made him think better of staying for too long. Finding less crowded walkways to leave the scene, he heard the fourth explosion go off. It sounded like it had come from the square he'd been in.

He was trying to get back to the docks where _Serenity_ was parked when he realized, almost instinctively, that he was being followed. He hadn't brought a gun with him and he was grateful for that fact. Only now, he wished something would catch his eye to become a weapon. He turned a corner and found a few stores that looked a little more than abused by the chaos. He ducked behind one and tore out a wooden slat from the window crossbeam.

Holding it like a bat, he waited, flush against the side of the building. Seeing the first sign of his follower, he swung at shoulder-level.

Adalyn caught his attack with one hand and glared, "Nice try."

"I didn't know it was you."

"Yeah. Come on."

She threw down the wood board and walked off. He followed and tried to keep up. She brought them back to the side streets that were less crowded and altogether not entirely secure-feeling.

"Can we make it back to the ship?"

"Ship left. It's just you and me."

"They left us?"

"No. They left you and I volunteered to stay behind. Keep you out of trouble."

"I was doing fine."

"Believe me, I'd rather not be down here, either. But we've got at least three or four days before it'll be safe enough for _Serenity_ to make landfall again. So, the agenda is simple. The Alliance doesn't catch us, we don't get blown up, we don't get killed by either side, and we lay low. _Dong ma_?"

"Should we look for someplace to stay for the night?"

"No. Right now we should get ammunition. We'll need that first. We've still got a few hours before sunset. We have a while before we need shelter."

"Ammunition? Are you planning to go to war?"

She turned in her gait without ever stopping it, "In case you didn't notice, this is a war zone."

She walked straightway again, looking down alleys until she found one she evidently liked. Keeping her back flush to the tall building on her left, she pulled a gun from her waistband and kept it ready. Coming to a stash of stores, she peered out and watched the running maelstrom of denizens and militants trying to find some semblance of control and normalcy.

She slipped behind one of the stores and looked in a small window in the back door. Stepping back, she planted her foot hard against the door near the lock and it slammed open. She leveled her gun, ready for anyone who came at her. Simon sighed.

"I like your idea of staying low."

She ignored him and cautiously looked farther into the building. Staying close behind, he saw why she'd broken in. It was the store he'd left Kaylee and Mal at earlier. Locked up and free from looting, everything was still pristine and in it's case. Content that the store held no unpleasant surprises, she quickly slammed the gun down onto a glass case. Simon jumped. The glass chipped and rained down on the merchandise. She cradled the gun back in her waistband before looking through the merchandise at her fingertips.

He didn't know if she was simply trying to stock up on weapons because of the chaos outside and the fact that she wouldn't have to pay for them, or because she thought they would need them in the coming days. He didn't really want to know which was the answer.

"Should I be looking for anything in particular?"

She shattered another glass counter without the gun, using the gloved heel of her palm to make the break, "Anything that fits comfortable in your hand. You'll be using it. Also, rounds for my Dolly's."

"Your what?"

She looked at him, "Look at the ammo boxes. Find ones marked D-2H7 and take them. That easy enough?"

"You plan on using all of this?"

"Don't plan to use any of it. But that doesn't mean I won't have to. So, stock up on my ammunition and find yourself some guns you like the feel of."

"I'm not going to rob a store just so you can have new toys."

She yanked a gun from her holster and fired off rounds into the glass cases near him. The silencer kept the sound muffled; Simon still shuddered a bit when she passed right over him to hit the next few cases in the lineup.

"Look, either we hope we don't get caught in the crossfire, or we make sure that we have fire to fight with. It's not a terribly complicated thing to wrap your brain around."

He glared at her while she holstered the gun. If she had been raised in the core, he couldn't tell. Rough and unpolished, he was surprised she'd been able to fool so many contacts. He reluctantly searched through the ammunitions cases until he'd found the boxes she was looking for. He put them aside, hearing more shouts and screams as another explosion went off. He wanted to be out there, helping people.

"Stop right there!"

He turned to see a young boy desperately clutching a pistol, aiming it at Adalyn. Adalyn slowed her hasty accumulation and faced the child. He was bloody and likely no more than eight. His hair was matted with sand and his face had soot on it.

"It's not worth it, child. We're not the bad guys," she said gently.

"This is dad's store. You won't be getting anything else."

"Look, we're on your side. We just need things to protect ourselves with. Okay? We won't take any more than we need."

"No! You won't get anything."

"Where's your father?" The boy's features wrinkled a bit and Adalyn took a step closer to him, "Hurt? Dead?"

"He's hurt," the boy gripped the gun tighter.

"That man," she pointed at Simon slowly, "He's a doctor. He can look at your dad. But you have to put that gun down. It's not worth shooting anyone, _dong ma_?"

The boy shot a cautious look to Simon before lowering the gun. Adalyn nodded in approval, "That's better. Now, we still need supplies if we're going anywhere. We get what we need, and he'll take care of your dad, okay?"

The young boy nodded again and stayed by the doorway. Simon wasn't about to turn his back on the armed boy, but he saw Adalyn do just that. She picked out three more handheld guns and a thick stack of magazines. Reaching across the counter, she lifted off some holsters and gloves, some other things Simon didn't recognize but was sure had more to do with guns than anything else.

"You get the ammunition?" she asked.

"I did."

"Then we're set."

She packed herself full of what she'd lifted from the cases and wall, her pants sliding down and inch or so when she filled every pocket on them with the heavy weapons. He offered her the ammunition boxes and she loaded them methodically into the bottom pockets on the leg of her cargo pants. He'd never seen those pants pull down so much.

"What's your name?" she looked to the young boy.

"Tian Jin."

"Well, I'm Adalyn and he's Simon. Now that we've been introduced, let's go see your father. Lead the way."

Finding himself grateful that Adalyn hadn't just disarmed the boy like he knew she could have, he followed her as she fell in step next to Tian Jin. As rough as she could be, she was still the best person besides his sister to talk people from fighting. But that was only when she didn't feel like jumping into the fray herself.

The boy led them down the pedestrian walkways before coming to a small hutch of battered corrugated tin roofing. He ducked under, moving beyond it and disappearing. Simon about followed but Adalyn held him back.

"You stay behind me."

He bit down what he wanted to say and let her go first. As much as he hated being looked upon like a child or an invalid, she was best to go first. It meant if something happened, it happened to her and he could fix it.

The steep pitch of the tin let him stand after ducking under the egde and he saw a dark, cramped space. It was swathed in canvas and burlap with little swatches of light dripping down between the sheets of tin.

An elderly man was lying on the far side of the makeshift room. Tian Jin was at his side. Simon kneeled next to him and Adalyn stayed standing, overlooking them all. She kept ducking down to look out beyond the tin and, when everything was to her satisfaction, she would stand back up and watch over the three of them.

Without the proper tools, Simon could only guess what was wrong. It looked like a concussion and a broken leg. Gentle, prodding fingers didn't find much else wrong and the man seemed coherent enough.

"Do you need anything?" she asked hurriedly.

"A brace for his leg would be appreciated."

She looked at Tian Jin, "Do you have any spare struts for the roof?"

He nodded and scampered deeper into the underlit room before coming back with what looked like metal rods. Rudimentary, but they would work. He did what he could, hoping it would be enough to keep the bone in place.

"Will he be okay?"

Simon looked at Tian Jin and gave a little smile, "He should be fine. He might be a little erratic for a while, but that should go away within a week. Just keep him still and make sure he eats normally."

"Are you two with the Browncoats?" he asked, looking between Simon and Adalyn while sitting next to his father.

Simon shot a look at Adalyn before answering. She was blank, but for the life of him, she looked like a soldier. She gave away nothing about what he should say, but he shook his head anyways.

"No. We're just caught in the middle."

"No one's caught in the middle," the old man said slowly, "There's always the chance to choose a side."

"Dad fought in the war. He's a hero."

"Ain't nothing like that. Just happened to be on the right hill to survive."

Simon sat down, wrapping his arms around his knees while Adalyn stayed vigilant, "You were an Independent?"

"That I was, son. That I was. No better cause than freedom. Not then, not now. Tian, put on some tea. Make our guests feel at home."

His son scampered off dutifully, moving back into a hollowed concave of a room that was darker, more shielded than this little lean-to.

"That's really not necessary," Simon smiled.

"Oh, pish, you came here to help me. It's the least I can do."

"No, we came because your son caught us stealing guns from your store," Adalyn spoke up, ducking again to look at the scene outside.

The father stared at her incredulously, but smiled after a moment, "Well, I appreciate the honesty. You look like a soldiering girl, so I suppose the guns could go to worse use. You see service yourself?"

"No."

He eyed her, "Aww, come on, stance like that isn't ingrained in civilians. You scream military. Don't tell me you fought with the Alliance."

"No. I had kin that died at Serenity Valley, fighting for the same freedom you were. They just happened to not be on the right hill."

The man sighed and nodded, "Well, then, they were obviously good kin."

Adalyn nodded distractedly, "That they were."

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your names," he looked to Simon, noticing that she wasn't paying attention to anyone.

"Simon. And she's Adalyn. You?"

"Zhian Yu. I appreciate your help. Even if it was in recompense."

"Yes, well, my friend can be a little overzealous when it comes to arming herself."

Zhian smiled, "That's never a bad thing, son. Never."

Tian brought over a rustic teapot and four small cups. He poured them out and offered them. Simon took his with a smile, watching the boy walk over to Adalyn with a cup. She took it brusquely, saying a quick thanks. Watching her, Simon realized that she didn't plan on ever coming over to them. She stood apart, looking vigilantly out and around.

* * *

Mal walked up into the bridge, hoping that Zoe had yet to find anything on the cortex. River was still at the controls, looking out over black nothingness ahead. He hated the fact that he'd left both Adalyn and Simon on the ground, but he had to hope that Adalyn really was the best chance for Simon to stay out of trouble. Zoe looked at him and shook her head once. He would take that as a good sign.

"They're here," River pointed out the window.

Mal followed her gesture to see the larger ships the Alliance had in their arsenal. They were cruising steadily closer, nothing more than silver dots on the horizon at the moment. Much as Mal hated leaving the others, he also hated sticking around 'cause it gave the Alliance one more reason to make his life harder. He only hoped they would be too busy on the ground to ask questions of his being here in the first place.

Zoe moved from the console.

"Where you going?"

"Tea. Want some?"

He shook his head. She looked to River. The girl, without seeing Zoe's look, sighed, "No, thank you."

Zoe almost smiled and walked off. Mal stood there to watch the ships come in. They would be sending down reinforcements about the time he was supposed to send everyone to bed. Although he doubted anyone would be sleeping soundly tonight. Or for a while.

"You should comfort her more."

"Huh?" he asked.

"Kaylee. She's still worried. You should console her."

"What 'bout you, lil' albatross? Not worried?"

"She'll protect him. More to lose now, so she'll be on her guard."

"Never had any doubts."

She looked over her shoulder at him and only rolled her eyes before looking back out over the black. He stared at her.

"What?"

"Never understand."

"Well, then why don't you explain it?"

She smiled, "Because that would be telling. There's no fun in telling. Everyone knows that."

He sighed because he knew he wasn't going to get anything else out of her. Whyever Adalyn was protecting Simon, he was grateful for it.

* * *

Simon ducked out under the tin roofing and looked around to see Adalyn sitting atop it. She was watching the stars come out. Or the white blips of gunfire. He couldn't really be sure. With her arms wrapped around her knees, she looked more ready to sleep than do anything else. He climbed up and sat next to her, looking out to see what she could see. They were far away from the brunt of the fighting. The last explosion had happened over three hours ago. But the guns still rattled on.

"I didn't actually thank you for staying behind. I'm grateful," he said conversationally.

She didn't say anything, just kept staring. He watched her. He doubted if she'd even heard him. Her eyes were tired and blank, immobile. Statuesque, was the word.

"Adalyn?"

Still no answer. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and she jumped, looking at him with wild eyes. He pulled his hand back quickly for fear that the sudden jolt would cost him.

"What are you doing up here?" she asked breathlessly.

"I came to check on you. You've been up here for two hours. Are you okay?"

"Fine. Thanks."

"I don't ever remember being able to sneak up on you before."

"I'm fine. Was there something you needed?"

He hesitated, "I wanted to thank you. For staying behind."

She nodded, "It's my job."

"No, I'm fairly certain being a bodyguard isn't your job. Being a cook, yes. Bodyguard, no."

"I'm not your bodyguard. Safety in numbers. Simple math."

"Well, thank you. At any rate."

She was still gazing out over the distant fighting. The guns went off like a symphony, filling the silence with punctuated screams and shots. He watched the scene for a while with her, taking in what he heard and trying not to think of where he could be. With Kaylee. Warm and loved. Eating dinner with the crew and listening to horribly inappropriate stories about times past. Watching his sister and Adalyn do Tai Chi and wondering how they could manage to synchronize their rhythms to each other. He supposed that was what happened when the government played with your brain.

"Did you want something to eat? Tian made noodles and protein."

Her face went ever so slightly sour, "No food. Thanks."

"I'm sure it's not as good as yours, but it was decent. You haven't had anything since breakfast, if I know you. You must be hungry."

"Did you grab a gun for yourself in the store?"

He blinked at the quick change of subject, "No."

She reached into her pockets, dug around, and pulled out a vest-like bit of leather straps, "Take off your vest."

He unbuttoned it and put it aside. She slid the straps of leather over his arms and buckled the front. Taking out two of the small handheld guns she had lifted, she put them in the holsters that sat just under each arm and slightly to the front. She looked at it appraisingly before handing him back the vest. He left it unbuttoned but found it hid the guns perfectly.

She took out the third gun and held it out, "You know how to work these, right?"

"I can shoot."

"These are special. Silk triggers. They go off easy. There's no recoil, but they tend to heat up if you use the whole magazine in a single show. Design flaw. Each has fifteen rounds."

"You expect me to be doing some shooting, then?"

"I expect you to protect yourself if I'm not able to do it."

He stared at her. She'd always been so cocky. So ready to take on anything and thinking that she could do it and win. He'd never heard her admit the possibility that she would be inept at protecting someone.

"Get used to handling them. They're lighter than they look. Don't use the butt to hit people. The magazine will jam. They don't have a safety, so don't aim unless you mean to shoot."

"Are you always so practical?"

"I try to be."

It wasn't the answer he expected. He assumed she would be arrogant about his question. He thought she'd be willing to let him make a fool of himself with a new gun that he'd never handled before. But there was a new sound to her voice. She sounded like she was defeated. Like she was waiting to die.

"Adalyn, is everything okay?"

She just stared out into the city-light jungle, watching the street fights stay comfortably distant. He watched her, finding quickly that everything obviously was not okay. But she wouldn't tell him anytime. Of all the crew, he was the one she wouldn't come to if something was troubling her. She might come if she was about to bleed out from a gut shot, but even that was unlikely. She'd die before asking his help.

He didn't know exactly how to feel about that.

* * *

Adalyn felt bile rise up in her throat. She leaned forward violently and turned to the side, letting an acidic heave drop into the dirt next to her. She coughed with the spasms. Bringing the back of her gloved hand across her mouth instinctively, she frowned to think she'd have to get rid of the glove or clean it. Her heart was still pounding and she felt like the world was spinning.

Simon came out from the lean-to and hunched down next to her. She continued to cough and he kept a hand on her back, bracing her. She didn't feel like glaring or throwing away his touch. She couldn't manage it. She felt weak and pathetic. She felt like the world was about to swallow her whole.

The coughing died down and her mouth and nose burned. She hadn't realized she had an extended audience until she heard Simon tell the boy to bring her tea and water. She found she didn't much care about that, either.

"Adalyn?"

She slumped back against the wooden siding she'd been sleeping against,  
"I'm fine."

"You're sick."

"No, just a nightmare."

He eyed her. She hoped he couldn't tell she was lying. She didn't know what else he might believe. Tian came back with a cup of water and a cup of tea. Simon held the water to her lips and she was too grateful to protest the coddling. She used it to clear her tongue and gums from the acid, spitting out the refuse in the dirt. The rest she drank, even that threatening her stomach's sanity.

Simon looked over his shoulder at the boy, "It's okay. You can go back to sleep."

She hadn't realized it was dawn. But it was. The warming colors of the sky were only damped by the sounds of gunfire. Even in the supposed peacefulness of dawn, it was a war zone.

She was able to hold the teacup by herself and she sipped at it. It was warm, soothing. It made the tumble in her stomach die down. Simon stayed braced on his haunches, watching her.

"I'm fine," she repeated herself.

"Do you want to talk?"

"I told you: it was just a nightmare."

He nodded, saying nothing. With her teacup to her lips, she just kept drinking. The light kept coming, bringing with it the inevitable fact that Alliance troops would be sweeping every area they could lay their hands on. Although this little lean-to was out of the way, it wasn't invisible. Either they would have to move, or they would be found. Tian and his father could afford it. They were likely to have ident cards – the likes of which neither she nor Simon had.

The wooden siding she was leaning against shook. She sat up straight, looking around. She quickly dashed up to the top of the tin roof and looked around for the source. Her ears were ringing and she doubted it would be a good thing. Simon stayed on the ground.

"What is it?"

She caught sight of the skiff before it dashed behind another building, dropping the percussion rounds as it went.

"We need to move. Now."

She jumped down, hoping for anything that the old man could walk if Simon helped him. She ducked under the roof. Tian and his father were up, probably from her sick stomach.

"Simon, get him," she pointed to the old man.

Simon quickly wrapped the man's arm around his shoulders, helping him walk towards the entrance. She grabbed Tian's hand and led him along. The building shook again. She didn't care where she went to, as long as it was away from the damaging rounds. Going as quick as she could without losing Simon and his burden, she found herself back on the main street in a rush of people. The skiffs stayed circling, dropping the rounds and rattling the buildings.

"What are those?" Simon asked.

"Percussion rounds. Won't do much except blow out your ear drums if you're too close."

He made a face and she looked around. They wouldn't be able to run. Not with a kid and an invalid old man. None of the buildings looked strong enough to drown out the thump of the round when it hit.

She saw a manhole across the street, "Come on!"

They made a run for it, dodging the screaming and frightened people running away from the skiffs. She let go of Tian's hand to hook her hands into the holes on the thick metal cover. It slid off the brace below it.

"Tian, go."

The boy climbed down the ladder as fast as he could. Simon looked nervously at the approaching skiff. It was methodically moving up and down the main streets, dropping the rounds as it went. The constant thump was starting to make her ears hurt and her stomach turn again. She looked over at the boy's father.

"Can you climb down?"

He nodded. The rounds thumped again, and she clapped her hands over her ears with the bass noise. Zhian slowly maneuvered himself into the thin hole, climbing down as best he could. Simon stayed next to her, watching the skiffs come closer. She could feel each new round start her heart in an arrhythmic pattern. It didn't help at all that she still felt like losing her tea. Simon went down after the boy and she slid the manhole cover as close to closed as she could before climbing into the pitch black herself. Hooking an elbow around the top rung, she tried to slide the manhole cover all the way shut.

The nearest round threw her back off the ladder. Dust and dirt fell from the tunnel ceiling above her and she hit with it. Simon wrapped his arms under hers to pull her back while she regained her bearings. Her blurred vision didn't help her lack of equilibrium. It faded after a moment and she was grateful that the following rounds didn't bother them although she had no doubt they were closer than the one that had dislodged her from the ladder.

Simon braced her against the rounded wall. The sewer was dry, thankfully, and she looked around. Shafts of light were all there was from above; it gave everyone an unearthly glow. She smiled at it. He stared at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Shiny."

"You fell fifteen feet."

"That all?"

She pushed her way up the curved wall and was grateful that her feet stayed steady. She shook her head clear from the last of the round's effect and looked at the two directions they could go.

"Where do we go now?" Tian asked.

She shrugged, "Wherever we can. Best bet might be to go back that way. Where they've already dropped rounds. There'll probably be another access point further down."

"How long do you think they'll keep at it?" Simon asked.

"Could be a while."

She checked herself over, making sure she had all her guns tucked neatly away. Everything in check, she started walking with little Tian at her side. Simon kept Zhian's arm over his shoulders. She hated to think it, but the likelihood of the rounds stopping anytime soon was close to zero. The Alliance loved those things. They did all the work for them. Push out terrorists and civilians all together. Arrest them all and figure out affiliations later.

* * *

Breakfast wasn't the same. Mostly 'cause it sucked. Without Adalyn's good skill at cooking, they'd been forced back on multi-colored protein. There hadn't even been leftovers from her pre-made dinner the night before. Nothing that made the ship feel right. Nothing that said the crew had earned some likeness of a real home. Poking at his last little chunk of protein, Jayne made his usual face. He wanted to complain, but he couldn't bring himself to. Not knowing that Adalyn and the doc were likely getting less than this anyhow.

If Mal had asked him to, he would've stayed behind to babysit that damn prissy doctor. If it meant Adalyn hadn't had to do it, he'd have done it in a heartbeat. But there hadn't been much a choice when she made up her mind. He guessed it was 'cause she was so close to River that she did it, them being damn near sisters and all.

"She'll come back with a clearer head."

He looked at the smaller Tam, "What?"

"When she comes back. She'll be able to think straight."

"What, you tell the future now?"

"No. I just know."

"What's she got to clear her head 'round?"

"There are lots of things. They bother her here because she can't think straight. It's troublesome for her."

He shifted in his seat, "I don't know what everyone's talking 'bout. You're as crazy as the day you came aboard. Not nothing changed that."

She eyed him and sighed, "It's only because you don't understand."

Standing from the table and leaving him there, she hummed a little song on her way to the bridge. Jayne watched her go and only thought the girl was getting crazier, not better. Mal walked in from the engine room and spared a glance at the protein still on his plate.

"Not hungry?"

"Don't taste like what she cooks."

"Well, she'll be back to cooking soon. It's only for a few days," he poured himself coffee, leaning against the counter.

"You got any idea what Adalyn might be thinking on?"

"Huh?"

"Crazy girl said Adalyn was thinking on something. Ain't quite sure I like the sound of that."

"Don't even try to understand those two. They've got more brains than the rest of us and they can damn well enough use 'em. Not likely we'll ever know what they know."

"Don't make sense. Said Adalyn couldn't think straight aboard."

"It'll sort itself out."

Zoe stood in the doorway, leaning in but not coming down the stairs, "Sir, they're dropping rounds. Also, we're being told to leave orbit."

Mal put down his cup with a muttered curse and Jayne stood, following them both back to the bridge. River was sitting in the copilot's seat, her knees under her chin. Jayne stayed back, watching while Mal looked at the wave. Some high-ranking whosit trying to get them away.

"You misunderstand, General, we're just waiting to drop cargo."

"I'm afraid the situation will require more time, Captain. I would recommend leaving and selling your cargo elsewhere."

Mal gave the smile that always made folk back down, "I'm afraid we've got a contract to fill. Not likely we'll be able to come back if we skunk on it."

The general Mal was talking to looked like the sort of man who'd seen no action save for a high stack of bulletins on his desk. Jayne smirked, thinking that this man wouldn't be like to make Mal budge an inch.

"I must warn you, Captain: failure to leave orbit could be viewed as a terrorist act. I wouldn't want you and your crew to be caught up in such an unsavory notion."

"Well, then, you just do your job and we'll do ours. Make sure no one gets in each other's way."

The general nodded, "I'll give you 48 hours, Captain. If you're not gone by then, you and your ship will be placed under arrest."

Mal's smile wasn't hiding nothing when he flashed it, "48 hours it is, then."

The screen blipped blank and Mal stayed hunched over. Zoe was at his side, like she always was. She sighed.

"How long do we give them?"

Mal stood, "Tomorrow morning. They don't contact us by then, we'll go in and get them – riots or not."

"Purplebellies ain't gonna be happy 'bout that," Jayne added.

"Don't matter none. Adalyn's got a good enough mind on her shoulders. She'll know we're looking for them. 'Sides, we got a reader. Shouldn't be too hard," he tried to smile.

River just sat there, silent and creepifying. She was still humming, quieter, but still doing it. He didn't recognize the tune and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

* * *

Simon hated the cramped tunnels. True, they were almost twice his height and over ten feet wide, but they still felt cramped. No reliable light source, no flat surfaces. And walking side-by-side with Zhian didn't ease his mind even though he knew the man couldn't walk on his own.

Adalyn stopped, "Zhian, you recognize that?"

She was pointing to a little box on the wall about knee height up. Zhian looked and nodded, "Looks like a trigger."

"What's that?"

She shrugged, hunching down. Picking up some dirt, she dropped it in front of the box. A little blue beam showed up for a second, "Someone wants to know we're coming. No surprises."

"You think it's still active?"

"Probably. Might not be connected to anything anymore, but I'm not willing to take a chance. I like surprises."

She stepped over easily without hitting the now-invisible beam. She lifted Tian over it without a problem and put him down on the other side. Both her and Simon had to help Zhian over. Steadying him, Adalyn was able to make sure his broken leg made it high enough to pass over the beam. With him across, Simon took a higher step to get himself across. Adalyn stared at it for a moment more. He wouldn't have seen it if he'd been leading, but that was why, he supposed, she had come.

"You really didn't fight in the war?" Zhian asked.

"Nope."

"Not many, even soldiers, know about triggers. How'd you?"

"Just lucky to have good kin."

Simon went to wrap Zhian's arm over his shoulder again but Adalyn beat him to it. Without a word, she walked on, leading the way with the man leaning on her for support.

He knew she wasn't at her level best. Why, he didn't know. But he'd never seen her sick before. He'd never known her to give him an inch. He didn't doubt it was a nightmare, but he had to wonder what could unsettle her so much as to make her sick. She hadn't been hand-picked by the Alliance for the Academy for no reason. Like his sister, he assumed she'd been special from day one.

The tunnel continued and he found not having Zhian's weight made it more bearable. They'd only been walking for an hour or two, and he had yet to see another access ladder. He was sure there was one and even if there wasn't, they hadn't made any turns; going back would be easy. The rounds had faded behind them and at least that gave him some consolation.

The tunnel quickly emptied out into a huge cavernous control room. The machines were torn apart and coated with dust. Wide as it was high, it had crates and old Blue Sun merchandise stacked on all sides. Across the room was a ladder with light coming through the top. Their tunnel was a small climb higher than the bottom of the control room and the ladder was rusted out. Simon doubted it would easy to get Zhian down. There was more tunnel on the other side of the round room; all Simon wanted was to get back above ground.

Adalyn disentangled herself from Zhian and let him rest against the wall. She pulled out a gun from her hip and kept it close to her, moving closer to the edge of the tunnel. Simon walked to her, altogether curious as to why she'd drawn it.

"Adalyn?"

"Something's not right," she whispered.

"What?" he lowered his voice.

"The crates, the supplies. They're not dusty. They're new. Someone else is down here. I'm gonna go down, see what I can find."

"I'll go with you."

"No. Stay here."

He reached for the gun stashed under his vest on his left side. She stopped him, "No. Button it up. Don't pull it unless I'm down."

He nodded. She spared one look to the others before sliding down into the room. He moved back into the darker bit of the tunnel where Zhian and his son were. He kept his eyes on her, watching her move from one cover point to another, the gun always a movement ahead of her.

"She telling the truth? Never fought in the war?" Zhian asked quietly.

Simon didn't look at him, keeping his eyes on her, "As far as I know."

"No civilian can know what she knows. Doubt many soldiers would've spotted that box. Where'd she learn it?"

"To be honest, I wouldn't know," he fibbed. He assumed the Academy would've taught her most of what she knew, but he hadn't thought they would be such a comprehensive set of lessons. His sister didn't display any of that innate knowledge, but he doubted she'd had the chance to learn it if she was only there a third of the time Adalyn was. Much as he liked to think she had some upper hand, he wondered just what else she might know.

She was opening a crate. He couldn't see in it. She reached in and brought out a large component of a gun. Simon couldn't be sure of what piece it was, but for the life of him it looked like the barrel to a missile launcher. She put it back down and closed the crate silently. She froze where she was and quickly holstered her gun. He heard resounding footsteps. He ducked down and pressed himself back against the curve of the wall.

He could still see her. She was behind a tall crate.

A round suddenly went off above them. Dust fell around Simon and the others, larger gravel falling near Adalyn. She closed her eyes and he waited. He could see eight or so grizzled men file into the room, reaching into crates and pulling out submachine guns and pieces he'd never in his life seen. They stayed close to the other entrance, not coming near Adalyn. Another round went off and more dust fell from the ceiling.

Tian sneezed.

Adalyn's shocked face looked directly at them and Simon could see her jaw working. The men barked orders and came closer with guns out. He was sure Adalyn couldn't see his face, but he could see hers. Caught between annoyance and anger, she quickly pulled out both guns from her hips and stood in plain view. The men froze and only leveled their guns at her as a reaction.

"Sorry, guys. Didn't mean to startle you," she said sarcastically.

Another round came closer, rattling some of the crates. A larger man came up closer. She kept one gun trained on him. He stopped a few good paces away, "Who are you?"

"Friend, by the looks of it. I doubt we're both in these tunnels because we're getting pretty pay credits by those boys upstairs."

He looked her over. Simon could only hope she could talk their way out of this situation, too. If ever there were a time to be the perfect soother for a new client, now would be it.

"What are you down here for?"

"Took cover from the rounds. Didn't feel like having my ears blown off."

"Heavily armed for running."

"Well, with the worlds being the way they are nowadays, can you blame a girl? Just trying to protect my future. Couldn't help but notice you and yours have some nice gadgets. The trigger box was a little obvious, though."

He straightened, "You a soldier?"

"No. Just smarter than some."

"You know we can't let you out of here. No telling if you're some Alliance spy."

"No argument. I just need to contact a ship."

"Why?"

"Dropping cargo and the riots started. Got separated. They're waiting to hear from me. Simple as that."

"What ship?"

"You think I should tell you if you think _I'm_ the spy? Look, I don't need a fuss. We could stand here all day with finely crafted firearms aimed at each other, but that's not my agenda. I need to get to my ship and get away from this little world. Take me wherever you want so long as I get to talk to them."

He stayed silent, thinking. The room rattled again, less so. The man looked a good six inches taller than Adalyn and he was thick and broad. Not chubby, just muscled. Simon doubted Adalyn could take all of them if they decided to attack. As much as he hated to think about being held captive by either side, at least this side was hopefully the one who would be more sympathetic to her and Zhian.

"What's your name?"

"Santayana."

The man almost smiled, "Didn't happen to have kin in the war?"

"Mark and Jo. Older brothers."

"Well, then, I guess they'll be happy to see you again."

Adalyn scoffed, "Nice try. They died."

The man fully smiled, "Okay. I'll take your honor. Kin were good men. Good soldiers. Didn't think their little sister was much a fighter, but then I shouldn't be surprised."

"Before we get chummy, I've got a kid, a civilian and a vet with me. They'll need to be treated right if I'm gonna lower these guns."

He nodded, "An act of good faith, then," he waved down his men.

They lowered their guns and Simon watched Adalyn relax a bit. She slowly lowered her guns and holstered them. The well-built man walked up and offered his hand.

"Name's Orion. Fought with your brothers at Du-Khan."

She took his hand, "Adalyn. A pleasure."

"Boys! Help the missus out."

Adalyn smiled and walked back to where Simon had stayed. He let go a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding in. He thanked Buddha for whatever grace He'd given to Adalyn before moving from the shadows. The men came over and helped Tian down. Gettin Zhian back to his feet, they helped him, too. They were all plainly dressed in military garb, no sign of rank or insignia. But he doubted they needed it. He jumped down and Adalyn smiled.

"See? Diplomacy wins."

"Your diplomacy includes aiming guns."

"Good incentive though, don't you think?"

He smiled at her. They were led out of the cavernous room with some men behind, more in front. Orion slowed his pace to put himself astride Adalyn. She gave a little smile and he shook his head in disbelief.

"Sure as hell didn't think to be seeing any more of your blood line. Sorry to hear 'bout your folk. And your kin."

"Appreciated."

"They mentioned you a bit. Said you were the bloom of the family. Didn't picture you as the type to carry."

She shrugged, "Times change."

"That they do. That they do."

"I assume you and yours are vets from the war. Assume also that you were responsible for the messy firework display above ground."

"Just a little something to rattle the cage. If any world's gonna be free first, it might as well be Beylix. Your family's from Boros, right?"

"We were."

"Well, you should've set down there. They're building up a resistance this world couldn't compete with."

"Well, had that been the case, we wouldn't have had this little meeting."

"That would have been a shame, indeed. So, who's with you?"

"This is Simon. Fellow crew. The boy's Tian Jin and the vet's Zhian Yu. Fun story behind getting them. They both live in a shanty on the western side of the market. Be nice if they could get back there after the skiffs clear."

"We'll do our damnedest."

"Obliged."

He stole a look at the PSR on her back. He whistled appreciatively, "Tell me you stole this."

"Of a fashion. She's my favorite."

"I can imagine. Looks like the newest model."

"She is. Was hoping to use her, some time this little visit."

"Well, I'm sure we can find some purplebelly that needs to be put away. So, what's the boy packing?"

Simon opened his mouth.

"Nothing. He lets me do the heavy work," Adalyn smiled winsomely.

He shrugged, not caring to change her story, "She's better at it, really. I just find its more fun to watch."

Orion slapped him on the shoulder with a laugh, "I'll bet you do. Get's a man going, watching that kind of beauty."

He tried not to blush and when he saw Adalyn smile at his expense, he knew he'd failed miserably. Not wishing to dwell on the downfalls of his fair complexion and how well it showed embarrassment, he found it strange that she'd hidden his handhelds. Especially now if these men were in fact friends.

* * *

Adalyn couldn't really complain. Considering what she'd come from, what she'd gotten used to, and what she had now, the main room of the hideout wasn't terrible. Dank like the rest of the sewers, but nothing that couldn't be warmed up with lively conversation. Besides the small group that had been in the control room, it looked like they numbered a good fifty or sixty strong. Seeing an antechamber that served as a little hospital, she guessed they'd been at closer to ninety walking yesterday. Orion pointed at a little control box in the far corner of the room.

"You can call you ship from there."

She nodded and walked over, grateful that Simon stayed close in tow. Pulling up the screen and finding the codes she wanted, she quickly typed in what she could. It wouldn't be much, but River would figure it out. She at least had that assurance.

"Is everything okay?" Simon asked quietly.

"Shiny."

"Is there something I should know?"

"No. Just keep close."

She noticed a blip on the screen when she sent the message. She hoped it had gotten through for the ground above them. Cortex messages never could be that reliable. At least they had something down here.

She watched Tian and his father handed food, and her stomach churned again. Between damp air and this morning's debacle, she didn't think her nerves could handle a meal if they offered her one. Walking towards the opposite side of the room, she found a huge display of standard issue weapons. The room itself didn't really have space for it, but she doubted these were the kind of people to mind being cramped like they were. With the hospital room in close quarters to the main room and, from what she could see, a sleeping room only two entrances down from the hospital, she doubted her stomach would love her much the rest of the time they were down here.

There was a quick hustle and a good half of the men gathered up weapons and gear. She looked around, quickly feeling electricity in the air as though someone had lit a fuse. Orion came over and reached for a large assault gun on the shelf.

"Loading up?" she asked.

"Got to go keep those bastards on their toes. Could be a chance to use that beauty of yours, if you'd care to come along."

She wanted to. Like anything, she wanted to. Her uncomfortable shift came off as eagerness and she tried to keep her face plain.

"No. Thanks. I think I'll sit this one out. Take care of the kid."

"Suit yourself."

He left her there, wishing she could go and not have anything hold her back from it. She watched the men hustle up, get into rank and clear out. Orion gave her a nod before following them. She could tell Simon was watching her, waiting for her to change her mind. But she doubted he knew why she was staying behind because she sure as hell didn't. At least, not that she wanted to admit.

The room quieted down and she walked over to Tian and his father, sitting by them. Tian offered her the leftovers of his bowl and she shook her head, quickly ashamed that the boy looked offended.

"Why didn't you go?" Zhian asked.

"It's not why I'm here."

"You could have fooled this old man. I can see it in your eyes."

She stayed silent, not caring that he was right. Everything that she'd been ingrained with was telling her to go out and turn it against the Alliance.

* * *

Simon had to accept that he would never truly understand Adalyn. Grateful as he was that she hadn't gone out with the men to start some new trouble, he found himself oddly, inexplicably, perplexed and surprised at her decision. With everything she'd been put through, he would've understood if she'd gone out. She had a score to settle, and he knew at least that she wasn't the type to forgive trespasses.

He'd had a few lessons with her, just enough to get him past that lingering doubt of his ability to protect himself, and he'd found that she was a creature of instinct. Almost nothing came to her that wasn't Alliance-made. She couldn't let herself relax because the training wouldn't let her. Constantly on alert and constantly ready to fight, it was all she could do. She didn't like to fight, didn't like to kill, but it was too much a part of her for her to deny it. He couldn't imagine living like that. Living with the desire to inflict damage. He was surprised that nothing had come of it more severely than those few times her inability to control herself had slipped.

He supposed one of the real reasons he would never truly understand her, though, was because at the moment she was sleeping against the wall. Middle of the day, and she'd crept into a dark corner of the main room to sleep. The doctor in him told him that she was sick, that her episode this morning and her fatigue were cause for alarm. She hadn't eaten since yesterday's breakfast and now that she was napping, he wondered just how run down she'd been. The fall from the ladder earlier still had him worried if for no other reason than she seemed fine. He knew enough to know that when she said she was fine was when she was in the worst possible situation. It was just how she worked.

The man lying down, his patient, groaned a little when the syringe broke skin. With nothing else to do, he'd found his niche and helped those he could. Already, one had died. But considering that the men he'd treated might not have survived anyway, he considered it a win. The supplies were better than he'd expected. He was able to do some good. If that was all he could do for the moment, it was enough.

* * *

River looked up from her reverie to see a little flashing light. Reaching over, she touched the cortex screen and found a message that had come from Beylix. She smiled. Adalyn always knew how to get in contact. She looked over to Mal.

"She's sent a message."

Mal sat up a little straighter before moving from the chair to stand over her shoulder. The message was quick and simple, exactly what River would expect from Adalyn.

_Safe. Check on Orion Roderick. Will contact with more info. Give me time. 32)13)254(35)6(14)152(27*2)14)11)19)14)41(40)10)27)4(14)47)10)13)14)47)41)19)/(11)564592(13)40)2(32)25)22)28)2)_

River smiled and looked over her shoulder at the captain. His brow was furrowed and she doubted he would understand the symbolic meanings of the numbers after the short message.

"What're all those numbers for?"

She sighed, "It's the rest of the message."

"What rest? It's numbers."

"Each number is a representation of a letter in the first half of the message. It says: "Trace this call. Indies have mole if Orion d/n (does not) check. Arm at will." That's what's she's saying."

Mal stared at her for a moment before smiling, "Well, you are a genius, I'll give you that. Sounds like she's found herself a little rebel group."

"It would seem."

"Orion Roderick. Name sounds familiar. Think you can search for him?"

"I can."

"How many hours we have before the Alliance tries to get at us?"

"Thirty-three. Although this message was delayed. The encoding shows it came from an underground transmitter."

"How long of a delay?"

"Given the ground density and not considering subterranean construction materials, probably seven hours. But I can't be sure. I don't know the particle composition of her current location."

Mal smiled at her, "Good enough for me. Just let me know what you find."

River watched him leave her there. She knew he would be heading into the engine room before having himself something to eat. Kaylee had stayed in her little sanctuary. Bad as River felt for her, she couldn't blame her, either. Knowing Adalyn's mind gave her some reassurance, but not much. She would be happier when she and Simon came back.

* * *

The calm white noise of conversations was shattered with the loud hustle of returning soldiers. Orion had one man leaning on him, his leg covered in blood and hanging limp. Simon jumped up, grateful that this was where he could do some good even if it wasn't what he'd planned. Orion tried to unload the man he was helping and Simon rushed over, his brain in complete control of cataloging the wounded coming in and the supplies he'd taken stock of earlier. Simon helped him down, the leg his first concern. He looked up at Orion and the man was already trying to get other wounded men into the cramped room.

"I need a syringe of delcium. Medkit, too."

Orion looked at him, "What are you? A doctor?"

"Yes, now get me the syringe!"

With Orion hustling off to get the syringe, he looked around for Adalyn. He had no doubt that the commotion would have gotten her attention, and yet he didn't see her. The man beneath his hands was crying out and the moment Orion came back Simon grabbed the syringe from him, using it on his newest patient. The man relaxed gradually and Simon tore away the strips of burnt and charred fabric that used to be cargo pants. The leg was missing a chunk of flesh right above the knee.

Orion kneeled next to him, unraveling lengths of gauze, "He's the worst we got."

"I need to clean out the wound first. What happened?"

"Hit with a firestarter."

Simon didn't want to know what that was and he only had an idea considering the wound, "I need scissors and an extractor. If you have a bandage cartridge, I need that, too."

Orion dug through the medkit and handed over the items. Simon was at least grateful that most of the exposed tissue wasn't bleeding and had been cauterized by the obvious fire. But the wound had fragments of metal embedded in it, cutting in and releasing blood. Taking those out one by one, he sprayed the bandage over it to keep the blood loss from becoming too crucial. Still, the blood on the man looked like it was more than most could've tolerated.

"Do you have blood inducers?"

"A few."

"Get one."

This was what he was ingrained to do. Trauma. Decide and deliver. Do the best with what he had because at the moment it wasn't going to get any better. Orion was able to inject the syringe without being told and Simon continued prying at shattered remnants of metal. This was his role in the world and right now, he was involved completely in it.

* * *

Mal stopped dead in his tracks to see Adalyn's door open. He walked over, not knowing exactly what to expect and seeing River sitting on the bed with a bloody shirt in her hands hadn't even crossed his mind as a possibility. He stood in the threshold.

"River, _xiao mei mei_, what are you doing?"

"She kept it."

He looked at the shirt she was holding. A light blue tank top with brown, old blood covering most of it. It was ripped and had several holes, but it was still identifiable. One of Adalyn's usual tanks. River was looking at it forlornly, like it was showing her a wave or something.

"What are you doing in here?"

"Remembering. When you saved her. Jayne saved her. She changed the sheets. Threw away the pillowcase. But she kept the pants and the shirt. Not very logical."

Mal's heart dropped to think this was the shirt they'd found her in not four months ago. The shirt Roland had tortured her in for hours. He'd thought Simon had gotten rid of it when he'd seen to her. Seeing River hold it over her lap, he realized he'd been wrong. He crossed the track for the door and sat on the bed next to River, wishing he could understand her better some times. But, Adalyn knew her well enough to keep him complacent. He wished he could get in on some of their jokes time and again, but for the better part, Adalyn knew enough to reassure him 'bout most things.

"Why'd you pull this out?"

"She's not like me. Different. Dangerous in a different way. Not like any of us. She's not like you, either."

"No, I'd reckon not."

"She wants to be. Wants to be a good big sister. Good mother, good friend. Taking care of me like mother used to. She's a cloud. Takes care of all of us."

"She'll come back, River."

The girl shook her head and kept her intense and sorrowful gaze on the tank top, "But we're still losing her."

"How's that?"

"Did you know she could sing? Pretty. Soulful. Sings like a mockingbird. All tunes and tones. Sang in the Academy. Nighttime. Little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine. Helped me go to sleep."

"River…"

"She won't sing anymore. Never sings. There's only the gun. A mockingbird never did anyone any harm, only sang."

"River, you listen to me. Adalyn and your brother are coming back. Not a thing kicking that'll stop them, either. Both got more willpower than most."

River looked at him plainly, her eyes bearing so much pain to see, "You can't protect her from everything, Captain."

"She's crew. I look out for my crew."

"If the mockingbird leaves, you have to let it fly. Otherwise it won't sing. Won't sing. Won't shine."

Mal couldn't say much to that. Sometimes he preferred her full-on crazy because then he could not even try to understand her; like this, things were so close and just out of reach. Thinking he understood her, but not wanting to know, he kept his mouth shut. He looked around the room. It was Adalyn's, through and through. The trunk in the corner, another under the bed. The desk with a little bit of a mess: bulletins and old waves and captures, a gun that had been left out and disassembled, some stray ammunition rounds and the little yellow bottle of aprovin that she used most days to keep her head from hurting.

"I think when she comes back, she'll need a good meal. It would be nice if we could cook for her."

"Won't taste as good as what she makes," he allowed.

"Thought that counts."

"Is at that. May be best you get back up to the bridge. Keep an eye out for when Adalyn gives a call next."

"I will. But you have to be ready to fly. Birds fly together, you know."

She walked out, placing the tank over his knee beforehand. He looked at it, picked it up, and folded it. He didn't ever wish to see it again, if he had the choice. But seeing it made him remember and if it was anything he hated doing, it was remembering what that bastard had done to Adalyn. How it made him feel. How shattered the poor thing had been for weeks afterward. Now at least she was her regular self, but he doubted the scars would ever really heal because he still had open wounds himself from Niska. And despite what that _hwoon dahn_ had done to him, he'd gotten off easy compared to Adalyn. Seeing her like that, he remembered, had turned him and Jayne protective. Girl hadn't been much allowed off the ship when she finally healed up. Jayne had doted on her. He'd made damn sure not to include her in on jobs. Simon had kept close watch on her and Kaylee couldn't seem to face her. Zoe, his wonderful Zoe, was practical as ever and he'd be damned if he'd thought in a million years it would be her who finally snapped Adalyn back to reality afterwards.

They'd almost lost her and he'd sworn never to let it get that close again.

* * *

She was still sleeping. Huddled in the corner with her head against the wall, her arms around her knees, she was silently sleeping. Simon sighed from pure exhaustion. He'd almost forgotten what it was like to have multiple patients at a time without a full team backing him up. Thankfully, that was mostly because he hadn't had to patch up more than one of the crew at a time for a while. He slumped down against the wall, watching Adalyn sleep, and he found himself shaking his head at her.

"I can't believe her," he sighed.

Orion sat next to him and smiled, "Nah. Jo could do that."

"Do what?"

"Sleep anywhere he wanted. Tell the boy he was safe, he'd sleep like there was money in it. What'd you do, wear her out?"

"Supposedly."

"She worth it?"

Simon looked at him, "What? Oh, no. We're not involved. Believe me when I say I'm not her type."

"Was wondering on that. Both on the same crew; you're the doctor. What's she, captain?"

"No, actually, she's the cook."

"The cook?"

"Yes. Very good at it, too."

"Well, could use one of those around here. Brothers couldn't cook worth a damn."

"How long did you know them?"

"Only a few weeks. Shared a trench in some god-forsaken little town. They both spoke on her. Said she was the proper one of the family. Always pictured her in dress, all dolled up and fancy."

Simon wondered if he would've liked her back then. If she was one of those tedious debutantes after inheritance and stature. But picturing her as the lady she used to be, he imagined she would've been beautiful. Beautiful in the way his sister had been beautiful. Not that she wasn't attractive now, or that he considered her ugly, but he could imagine her being the little china doll on the shelf. He could see her as a lady, not a soldier.

"I've only ever known her like this. I can't imagine her in a dress."

"Such a shame, her brothers dying. They were good men. To hear them talk, you'd think they were all joined at the hip. Remember Mark had a little kid on the way, hear anything on that?"

"No. She and I don't discuss family much."

"That's all folk have. Family. Shame to lose it like she did."

"She never really talks about it."

"Can't blame her. Most folk don't make it when they lose everything. A lot of those from the war, survivors and whatnot, they don't ever get back to normal. Can't imagine what I'd think to see her in dresses."

She was still sleeping, shifting a little to get comfortable again. There was nothing Simon knew about what life she'd come from, only that she'd had something similar to his. Was she so very much like him? If he hadn't been able to get River back, would he have turned out like her? Aloof and alone? Taking solace in the violence of everyday? Even without the Academy, he doubted his life on Osiris could have gone on. Things would have changed if he'd lost River.

Adalyn sat up and twisted, throwing up. Simon hefted himself from the wall, crossing the room quick to kneel at her side. It wasn't like she had eaten anything, but the dry heaves and acid weren't flowers, either. On all fours, she let her body shudder with the heaves. Orion stood behind Simon and he looked over his shoulder at him.

"Can you get her water?"

With the larger man walking off, Simon put a hand on Adalyn's shoulder. Even with the racking heaves, she threw his hand angrily, her arm lashing out to throw the grip. He watched her. She rocked back with her knees under her, kneeling there and wiping her mouth. Simon felt a glass against his shoulder and took it from Orion. He offered it and was at least happy to see her take it. There was nothing he could do for her until she told him what was getting her sick.

"Adalyn."

"I'm fine. Thanks."

"You're not fine. You're sick."

"I'm fine," she glared at him.

"The air gets to people down here," Orion said helpfully.

Simon knew, as well as Adalyn did, that the air had nothing to do with her throwing up. He couldn't say what it was, but he knew it wasn't being down here. He watched her for a moment, restraining the impulse to help her when she sat back against the wall. There was no worse feeling than being helpless. Right now, that was all Simon had.

She looked up at Orion, "Do you have anything to eat?"

He nodded, "Not much more than basic protein."

"It's enough."

"Help yourself. Might help get you better. Food like that usually does."

She got to her feet steadier than Simon would have thought and for the life of him, she looked perfectly fine if not a little pale. She brushed past him, leaving him there to watch her go off to the food bins. He was grateful that she was eating, but he still found the idea of her being sick disconcerting.

The room rattled. Simon instinctively looked up. Orion sighed.

"Still dropping rounds. Dropping them all over the city. Doubt they'll stop anytime tonight."

"Should make for a restful evening."

"You get used to it after a while. Helps remind you where you stand."

"Is this what it was like in those trenches?"

"This? No. This is nothing," he said, walking away.

Simon watched Adalyn for a moment; she was eating one of the bricks of protein. He figured it best to leave her alone for a while. Touchy as she was already, he didn't like the idea of getting her altogether angry while they were still stuck down here. The room shuddered again and bits of dirt fell like a soft, brown rain. He wondered idly when Adalyn was planning to get them out of here; he didn't know how viable an escape would be if the Alliance was still dropping rounds and the rebels continued to attack. Neither group seemed ready to call it a day, and neither group was willing to give in.

Tian walked over, "Is she okay?"

Simon shrugged, "I hope so. Why, worried?"

"I like her. She reminds me of my mom. I hope she's okay."

"I'm sure she will be."

"Do you think she'll be able to get us back to our house? You know, after the fighting stops?"

"I do. If anyone can, it'll be her."

The room shook violently and chunks of cement fell from the ceiling. Simon felt his shoulder battered and Tian next to him yelped. Adalyn ran over and quickly took the boy under her, shielding him from another chunk and it hit her instead. The violent shaking stopped and Adalyn and Simon both tentatively looked up. Some men had suffered their fate of being hit, but most looked fine. Simon looked at his shoulder to see a red gash on his sleeve. Adalyn's shoulder blade was bleeding. She stood and uncovered Tian to show a gash on his forehead. "Here. Let me take a look," Adalyn said, getting on one knee to look at the boy's wound, "Shouldn't be too bad. Simon can fix it right up."

"You're both hurt, too. Are you okay?"

She smiled, "We're tough like you. Simon? Stitches?"

He nodded, "Come on."

"I'll check on Zhian."

Simon let her walk off, happy for the hand with the boy. He'd never been bad with kids, but Adalyn seemed to have to natural knack for it. He supposed, if Kaylee were here, she would've too. River, even, was better with kids than he was. With her bleeding shoulder in more need of attention than either his or Tian's wounds, he wondered how long it would be before he was allowed to look at it.

* * *

Adalyn reached awkwardly around to touch her shoulder. It felt like a huge gash and the blood was staining her shirt. Between bile and blood, she planned to make full use of the loaded water tanks on _Serenity_ when she got back aboard. Zhian smiled at her when she sat.

"Thank you."

"He's fine. Just a little cut."

"I saw you protect him. For that, I'm thanking you."

"It was nothing."

"My son doesn't usually bond so closely to strangers. You and your friend are special."

"Kids just like me. Always have."

"He told me you remind him of his mother."

She didn't know what to say to that. Keeping quiet, she looked to the side to see Simon dealing with not just Tian, but some of the men who'd been clipped as well. She supposed she should help him, but Tian looked content enough to be first in line.

"Your son's a brave boy."

"He gets that from his mother."

"You're the war vet and he gets it from her?"

"Oh, yes. She was like you. Well-schooled. Decent family ties. She passed away last year. But he still remembers her as a soldier. She had gone to the Arts School, trained to be a minder. She was good at it. It gave her purpose, protecting people. She would say that self-sacrifice was the sincerest form of devotion."

"Your wife was a smart woman. And I'm sorry, for your loss."

"She died doing her job. Took a bullet for some general or another. Commended posthumous, of course. Tian looked up to her. Same as I'm sure he looks up to you."

"He's young. He doesn't know what I am."

"I do."

She looked at him, waiting.

"You're an assassin."

She lowered her gaze a bit, not caring for the term but not finding any other that would ever really fit who she was. At least for most occasions.

"It's not a shame to be in that line of work. Some people are born for it. I figured it out. You know too much to be a civilian; you're too independent for regular army. You carry a precision arm on your back and never think twice about what it takes to accomplish something. That mindset is honorable."

"I'm glad someone sees it that way. I doubt your son would. Or most people. Some consider me just a tool for hire."

"There is a difference between a bounty hunter and an assassin, you know. A bounty hunter doesn't ask questions. All an assassin does is ask questions. You take marks you know you can do and you feel obliged to do. A bounty hunter only wants money. You want justice."

She smiled sadly, "Things are never black and white. A man of war should know that."

"And I do. But I also know you have a conscience. Any other soul in your line of work would have cast my son and I off as burdens. You didn't."

She gave a little shrug, "Well, it was the least I could do. I did steal from you."

He chuckled and looked over at his son. She followed his gaze to see Simon just about to start stitching the boy's forehead up. The boy was adorable, and brave, but she doubted even a kid that brave would enjoy stitches even with the anesthetic Simon had given him.

* * *

Simon didn't really care that he had a half-dozen other patients to wait on. He doubted most of the men would need a painkiller. Tian, however, deserved one. He was too young to ask much more of him than not crying. Which, without being asked, he was accomplishing.

Adalyn walked over, taking him in her lap when she sat cross-legged. Simon smiled at the gentleness. He doubted it would have come out if Tian hadn't been wounded. Until now, she'd been distant from the boy, from all of them.

"It may hurt a little," Simon admitted.

Tian nodded and Simon started his work. Tian winced and looked like he might break his steely resolve of not crying. Simon didn't have a huge choice of needles and the smallest one he could find was still made for an adult. Not for the gentle and thin skin of a child.

Adalyn started humming, wrapping her arms around the boy and keeping him snug. He settled back against her chest and Simon didn't mind the motion even though he was working. The boy's resolve came back and Adalyn continued to hum. Simon vaguely recognized the tune, but he would have to ask its name later.

All in all, the job only required seven stitches. Adalyn was still humming softly and sweetly when Simon tied off the last one.

"There. All done," he leaned back and looked to Adalyn, "Do you want me to stitch up your shoulder?"

"Help the guys first. I can wait."

He nodded, expecting as much. Tian moved from her lap and they both moved to the wall near Zhian. Simon watched them again. Adalyn sat with her knees halfway to her chest and Tian sat on her lap again, sideways this time. She interlaced her fingers around her knees and made a little backrest for the boy. He snuggled up against her front and she leaned her head on his. She started humming again. It was soothing. It made the boy's eyes start to close. Even Zhian looked peacefully ready to turn in for the night.

* * *

The bridge, his second home, was becoming more like his first considering how much time he'd spent in it with River and Zoe. Mal didn't mind being on watch for the better part of the day, but he still liked his privacy every once in a while and sharing a bridge space with River didn't give him much. Kept from even his wandering thoughts for fear of hurting her mind, he couldn't even think alone. Not that being in his bunk or the kitchen would have made much difference, he just didn't think about it as much when she wasn't around.

"You called?" he asked.

She nodded, "I found Orion Roderick. Adalyn was right."

"About him being a mole?"

"It says he was killed in the battle of Du-Khan. Body was never recovered. The record says he's dead."

"And if he's alive and kicking, that must mean he's evil. Right," he said sarcastically.

"No. It means he wasn't killed."

"The records for those battles ain't exactly perfect, little albatross."

"Which the Alliance could be using for their advantage."

"Or which means he just got lucky and it's nothing more'n that. Can't say I agree with you on this one."

"I found something else. In Adalyn's message. The substantial delay wasn't just caused by ground density. The message was encoded to go to another ship automatically before being sent to the planned destination."

Mal's brow furrowed, "How's that?"

"Simple redirection algorithm."

"Can you tell where it went to first?"

"No."

"Can you see what brigade he was under? Name still rings familiar."

"It might take a while to go through the records. I can check."

"Do that for me. Let me know what you find."

"I'll send the list down to my bunk. Tired. Going to bed."

He nodded, "You do that. Can't have my pilot asleep at the helm."

She looked at him strangely while typing in codes on the cortex screen in front of her, "We're stationary. Piloting isn't required."

He smiled, "My mistake."

She rolled her eyes, walking off the bridge to leave him there. He continued to smile, knowing he'd walked right into that one with her. He stood there, watching the other ships circling Beylix and the small transports from the gun ships that came and went, delivering godforsaken troops to the ground below. Had his choice, he'd be down there. Might be having more fun than waiting, at any rate.

Heavy boots came onto the bridge and he looked behind him to see Jayne. The man had a bowl of protein mush and a spoon, shoveling his mouth full of it. The larger man sat in the copilot's seat, propping his feet on the dashboard. Mal turned his gaze back onto the black.

"You can turn in. I got this shift."

Jayne shrugged, "Ain't the same. Turning in without somebody warm. Miss it."

Mal stared at him incredulously, "Jayne, are you saying you can't sleep without her?"

"Just saying. Ain't the same when your bed's all cold. She warms it up. Makes it worth looking forward to."

"And you can stop that description right there, if you don't mind."

"Just saying."

"Yeah, I know. L'il Kaylee's missing it, too. All you coupled folks are ruining my ears. Going on 'bout warm bodies and empty beds. Never thought I'd be hearing it from you."

"Not like she's always there, but it's nice when she is, you know?"

He nodded, not sure how exactly he was supposed to answer that but knowing what came to mind, "Reckon I do. Have you…ever heard her sing?"

"No. Hums when she's shining her pieces. Close to singing. Sounds nice. Why?"

"River said something. Just got me curious is all. Thinking if I'd ever heard it. Been on this ship near nine months, can't remember her singing."

"Girl's just plain crazy. Don't know what everyone's thinking on about. She's no more sane than the day we got her on board. Just speaks easier now."

"She does her job. She's crew. Wouldn't have it any other way."

Jayne just grunted, taking another big scoop of protein into his mouth. Mal smiled at the unspoken agreement and looked back into space.

* * *

Kaylee stayed curled up in her lonely bed clutching childishly onto a vest that smelled like him. It wasn't much, granted, but at least she could think he was here. Busy maybe, taking care of everyone else on the ship or out buying her something shiny, but not gone and away from her. She hadn't slept well last night and she doubted she'd do much better tonight. It had been months since she'd been alone in bed and the thought of doing it again wasn't making her loose her grip on the vest any. He didn't wear this one so much anymore. He'd almost thrown most of them out, recycled them. She'd stopped him. Good as he looked in baggy sweaters and cargo pants, she still liked seeing him all _shuai_ in his vests. This one had been tossed to the wayside since it now sported a big rip in the front left side. Neither of them could sew it up. Simon hadn't felt right asking Zoe and none of the others needed to know he couldn't sew it himself. So, they resigned it to being a scrap in case something else needed shiny silk fabric.

Her little corvue screen beeped at her. She sat up out of bed and looked at it for a moment. Cap'n wouldn't use it—he'd use the intercom. Too far away from home for a message…

She pressed the little button that was flashing at her and dropped her Simon-substitute vest. The screen was half blurred and snowy, but she could tell it was Simon

He was smiling at her, obviously relieved to see her just as much as she was to see him, "Simon?"

"I was hoping to catch you," his voice sounded tired even through the static of the disrupted call.

"A-are you okay? Is everything okay down there?"

"I'm fine. We're fine. Safe. Safe as we can be, at any rate."

"They're dropping rounds. Sending in more gunships every hour. Where are you hiding?"

"Some sewer system. Adalyn found a little retreat. We're safe. Don't worry."

She tried to smile like he'd want her to and nodded, "Never had a fear. What kinda junk you waving on? Signal's joggy."

Simon shrugged and smiled defeatedly, "Couldn't tell you if I tried. But it's working."

She looked at the code running alongside the picture of him, "Only 'cause you got a booster from another ship helping you out."

His brow furrowed, "Well, I haven't….any other ships…but I'll talk to Adalyn."

"You're starting to jumble real bad."

"I just wanted…love…," his whole wave was being crackled.

"Simon? Can you here me?"

"….back soon."

She nodded again. The screen shorted out again and his face was covered by white crackle. She stared at it a moment longer, wishing it hadn't gone out. She was surprised the signal even made it through if they were underground. But it had and she'd gotten some reassurance that he was unharmed.

She absently pulled the vest back into her hands and lay back, looking at the ceiling. The corvue screen shut off on its own like it was supposed to, and that was when she felt a wet little tear crawl down her cheek towards her ear and the pillow.

* * *

He hated to wake her. She looked, for once, peaceful. With little Tian on her lap and her head pillowed her own shoulder, she looked more at rest than he'd seen in a while. The boy had fallen asleep hours ago and she'd followed suit. He walked across the room, wiping his hands on a towel. He'd taken care of the men who'd been hit with bits of the ceiling and now it was her turn.

He went to reach for her.

She pulled a gun silently and aimed at him with a feral look in her eyes. He backed away and she came back to her senses. Tian barely moved for the quick motion. Her brow furrowed and she holstered the gun. She mouthed the word sorry to him before gently, tenderly, moving Tian from her lap. The boy nestled in against his father without cracking an eye and she stood.

They walked away from the sleeping pair to a blank cot that had served as a medcot for the last few hours. She sat wordlessly, slipping one arm out from under the tank and sliding it to bunch up in the crook of her neck, giving him access to her wounded shoulder. She slid down the bra strap and he pulled on his gloves, reaching for the stitching supplies. The wound was still seeping although it wasn't terrible enough for him to get on her case about waiting so long. He couldn't justify it anyway; she'd been taking care of Tian.

"What were you humming earlier?"

"Hmm?" she asked drowsily.

"Earlier. You were humming to Tian. What was it?"

"This Little Light of Mine. Old song I used to hear at church."

He started the stitching and wasn't surprised not to see her flinch a bit, "I've never heard you hum before."

"You've never seen me polish guns before."

"True."

"Sorry about pulling one on you, by the way."

"You didn't pull the trigger, so, I'm happy."

"Suppose."

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Starving. But fine."

"I would like to do a physical when we get back to the ship. I'm worried."

She exhaled sharply, "You knew to start this conversation after you had string attached to a needle in my back because otherwise I'd be walking away right now."

"You caught me."

"I told you. I'm fine. Nerves are just a little rattled is all."

"You? You've been shot, tortured, stabbed and drowned and now your nerves are making you sick? I find that a little hard to believe."

"You're not my mother."

"No. I'm ship's medic. And, as much as you may hate to admit it, you're my responsibility as much as I'm yours. Besides, I doubt Jayne would let me back on the ship if you came back in pieces. Physically or otherwise."

"I'm fine."

Orion walked over and both Simon and Adalyn looked up at him. He gave a little smile and looked around at the wound on her back.

"She gonna live?"

"She'll live."

"How are you doing? Better?"

She shrugged, rewarded by a pinprick and she glared over her shoulder at Simon before continuing on to talk, "Better. Would love a feast, if you've got one. Haven't eaten much in two days."

"I can bring you some protein. We've got plenty. What color?"

"I don't care what color it is. Just bring me everything you've got."

Simon stopped to stare at her and she looked over her shoulder at him, "What? I'm hungry."

"It's a start," he admitted, finishing another stitch.

Orion smiled with a suppressed chuckle, "One five course meal of multi-colored goodness coming up."

He walked away and Simon smiled in spite of her. He finished off another stitch, watching her unflinchingly take the next one he started. He was quiet, not expecting her to talk save for the soft thanks she gave to Orion when he came back with an armful of protein bars. She munched on the first one, silent. Simon didn't know if he admired her resolve or found it irritating. He tied off the last stitch in the line and sat back, checking his work for anything fatigue might have caused. She reached over her shoulder with a protein bar in her hand, offering it to him. He took it, unwrapped it and tried not to make a face when he bit into the corner.

"Did you learn all of this at the Academy?" he asked quietly.

"What?"

"Well, River doesn't know about war, at least not that I know of, and I can't imagine where else you'd have learned it."

"Yeah. The Academy."

"How much do you know?"

"Too much. They taught me too much."

"It seems to help, though."

"They didn't teach me about war in some lab, Doc. Sent me out there. Let me see it like it was some corvue screen."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugged and he caught a wince of pain over her face, "It does have a purpose, though. Better than some things they taught me, I suppose."

"You know, I find it odd that strangers know more about your family than I do."

She looked over her shoulder just enough to put him in her peripheral vision, "Why do you think you deserve to know?"

He paused, looking down at his protein bar, "I'm your friend. At least, I'd hope so. Considering that we've saved each other's lives on more than one occasion."

"Doesn't mean you need to know about my family."

"No. I don't need to. But I'd like to. I mean, you have an advantage. My sister's open about her life and you were cellmates with her. Me? I only know you hate doctors and your brothers fought under the Captain. It's not much to go on."

"I didn't think there'd be much to tell. I was the youngest of three. Mark left for the army first. Jo followed. I got kidnapped and my parents were killed at some point between then and when I broke out. Nothing exciting."

"Were you an aunt?"

She looked down at her own protein bar and nodded, "Yvette. My sister-in-law was expecting a child. I don't know what came of it."

"I assumed you've looked?"

"Searched through Boros when I was there. Even Daryl can't account for them. They're dead for all I know. Even if they weren't, it's not like they need me in their life."

"I'm sorry."

"I was never close with Yvette. I tolerated her. But to see Mark's child…that would be worth it. To see something of my brother. Just to know I'm not all that's left."

"I can understand that. I don't get to see my parents, but just having River is enough. I know she'll never be the way she used to be, but she's still my sister. She's enough."

"You're lucky to have her. At least you've got family."

He stared at her, "You have a family."

She stayed quiet for a moment before standing and rotating her shoulder to test the stitches, "I'm going to bed. Sleep well."

He nodded and watched her go, unsure of what had made her so suddenly lose interest in the conversation. She curled up in a corner away from most people and leaned against the walls, her hands between her bent legs and her chest. He watched her slowly drift away before he looked at his meal.

* * *

Mal's eyes opened when the faint glow of red made him come back to his sense. He looked at the console for a dumb moment, not completely awake and not realizing just what the little red signal meant. He sat up straighter, his brain coming on-line and pushed the little button that was flashing. He looked out his big window to see the other ship that was hailing him. He leaned forward to watch the screen flicker to life with the transmission. He put on his very best fake smile.

"Well, General, what can I do for you?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to leave a little early, Captain. The situation on the ground is getting too serious for you and your ship to be…hovering around."

"Strange. By my watch, we got another day 'fore we need to move along."

"Unfortunately, Captain, your watch is not what my schedule obeys. You'll have to leave orbit now unless you'd rather we escort you."

River came up from the stairs silently. Mal didn't notice her until she was in his peripheral vision. He didn't look at her.

"That won't be necessary, General. We'll be on our way shortly."

"I'm glad to see you have some reason."

The screen flickered back out and the little red light turned off. Mal looked to River when she sat in the copilot's seat. She was already typing in commands and getting the ship to hum a little louder.

"I would bother explaining the intricate details of my plan, but looks like you already know 'em."

She smiled, "Go away, use the rings, hide and wait and use a shuttle to go down. Find Adalyn and Simon."

He nodded, "That's my albatross. Get us as far as you can."

"Given the diameter of Beylix, the General's ship's horizon sight and including the visual impairment of the rings, the closest distance for velocity change would be fourteen clicks. After that it's unlikely we'll be seen."

The ship moved forwards gently, away from Beylix and out between the large debris field that made up the rings. Mal stood, watching the planet fall behind them, get smaller.

"Were you able to find anything on Orion?"

"Fought under Monty."

"Oh, well, that makes things easier. Anyone knows about this, it'll be him. Can we reach him?"

* * *

Besides the few rounds that had gone off during the night, Simon slept well. He'd slept on a cot with too many of the roommates snoring, but he'd slept. It wasn't warm, wasn't wrapped up with Kaylee, but it was something more than he supposed the worst could be. He was even surprised he'd slept well and he didn't realize it until he heard Adalyn heaving her big dinner into a pail. He shot up, full-on doctor-mode, and almost rolled his eyes to see her huddled in a corner, leaning over a bucket. He got up from his cot slowly, his legs a bit stiff for being curled all night. No one else was up yet. He supposed he'd managed to get in a few hours sleep, but it was probably still before dawn. Walking over, he managed to zigzag his way around the countless men who'd gone to sleep without cots and just picked a spot on the floor and pillowed their arms under their heads. It was dark and he had trouble distinguishing pipes and pillars from people. He still made it over to her and only watched a moment more until she seemed she was done. He shook his head at her.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were pregnant."

Even if it had been pitch black, he would've caught the look on her face. Caught in the act and completely unawares, completely knowing. His heart stopped beating for a moment and he just stared at her while she tried to not make eye contact.

"My god, you're pregnant."

She stayed silent, looking beyond the putrid contents of the pail and into something deeper. He smiled.

"Congratulations. This is good. How late are you?"

"Eleven…twelve…"

"Good. That's still early, there'll be plenty of time to get everything ready—"

"Not days, Simon," she said softly.

He stared some more, rationalizing what she'd said. With the staring, he noticed she finally looked at him and her face was more demoralized, more abandoned than he'd ever seen before.

"Weeks? You mean weeks?"

"I mean weeks."

Closer would be better, he decided, taking a step towards her, "Why didn't you tell me? You're almost done with the first trimester and you didn't tell me?"

She lowered her gaze and moved away from the pail. She stood there, letting him glare at her and then his brain clicked everywhere at once and his mind started running in circles because all the things she'd done over the last three months made more sense and he had no idea what to say.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

"I was planning on it."

"You weren't going to tell us. You were just going to leave. That's why you've been sending waves to Daryl. Why you came down here to get me."

"It'd be a good excuse, you've got to admit."

"You weren't going to tell anyone?"

"River found out. She knew before I did. But, no. I wasn't going to tell anyone."

"How could you do that to us? To Jayne?"

She scoffed. It wasn't at all the reaction he'd thought he'd get from her. Anything would have been better than her deranged and almost psychotic smiling face. She looked him straight in his eyes.

"I asked him, you know. Hypothetically. The day I found out, I asked him what he'd think about being a father. You know what he said? He said all kids were, was a complication. That they made a man soft and vulnerable. I laughed it off. Agreed with him. You tell me why I should tell him anything."

Her voice was a harsh and hushed whisper, nothing more than a voice clinging to sound. He stared at her a moment, unwilling to think that even someone so calloused as Jayne would say something like that.

"You still should have said something. To Mal, to me, to anyone."

"I chose not to and it was my choice. And I'll be damned if I let you tell them."

"Are you threatening me?"

Sirens blared and Adalyn looked up. Men got to their feet, hustling and hurrying around for weapons. She looked back at him.

"The trigger."

She made a dash for the corner she'd been sleeping in and quickly reloaded herself with the smaller handheld pistols. Her PSR had never left her back. She ran over to find Orion and saw him loading his men up. Simon followed and watched her mindlessly load her guns.

"Are we being attacked?"

"Sensors went off. Looks like we've got company."

"But it could be nothing. Just more civilians," Simon spoke up.

"Could be. Not likely."

"You need a flyer," Adalyn said practically.

"You volunteering?"

She nodded. Simon stared at her, "No you can't. No in—"

"Shut up. We can argue about me later. I'll go. Scout it out."

"You sure?"

"I'm the best you'll get, believe me."

Orion nodded reluctantly, "Okay. We're taking a team."

"How long do we have?"

"Ten minutes, tops."

"I'll take point before I fly," Adalyn pulled her PSR to her front and started walking away with Orion and several men behind her.

Simon caught up to her, walking hurriedly to keep pace, "You can't go out into a fight."

"This is not a discussion. You stay here. Keep Tian and his father safe."

"I'm not—"

"_Not_ a discussion."

He watched her walk away with the half dozen men in tow and her favorite gun ready for battle. He stood there, useless, and watched her go off to fight. Watched her go off to fight someone when she couldn't take out her frustration any other way.

* * *

It was different now. Someone who shouldn't know, knew. Someone who wasn't River knew about it and that made it more real. It meant it was happening to her. She was pregnant and up until this point she didn't think she'd ever told herself that. She'd never shied down before. She'd never had second thoughts before now. But just because things were different for her didn't mean the rest of the verse would take that into consideration.

The first task was to get into a position that would keep her protected while in plain sight. That was harder because she was pickier. Choosing her little perch to be a concrete outcropping that ran around the entire circumference of the large room, she made sure it was the widest part to give her the most cover.

Seeing the men huddle back in darkness, waiting for her to take the first shots and keep the Alliance soldiers at bay, wasn't any bit reassuring. She didn't want them to rely on her because she didn't want to be relied on by anyone.

With her eye behind the sight of her crosshairs, she saw the first silver, jack-booted trooper come into view. Up until she saw the military outfit, she'd hoped it would be just a false alarm. Hell, she still hoped it and it made it harder to take the shot. She readjusted and waited until the next few came in. One by one, the first half-dozen jumped down into the cavernous control room.

She fired. The first fell. Blood puddled on the ground. The next two were easy because they hadn't reacted yet. She couldn't go for the forehead. Not with these targets. The neck or the heart. Their helmets kept her from firing quicker. Able to pierce the jugular, the first few bled out on the concrete floor. After that, they aimed back at her because they'd figured out where the shooting was coming from. She ducked her head down and heard more shots and screams when the rebels came out of hiding to fire off their weapons.

A bullet clipped the concrete and she bit her lip when a fragment hit her upper arm. But it gave her a little rest for the barrel of her rifle. She fired back, hitting one or two before she ducked down again.

She wanted to be with Jayne. She didn't care if she was still in this fight, she just wanted Jayne to be there with her. She wanted to hear him cursing and taunting those soldiers. She wanted him to be arrogant and give her the confidence she lacked at the moment. More than anything, she wanted to be taken care of by a man she knew would.

There was more screaming. More shouts and shots. She looked over the edge to see a trooper running back down the sewer, escaping. She quickly pushed herself off the outcropping elegantly, her feet touching the crates below her. He couldn't be allowed to escape. There would be more and it would be too soon.

She jumped up the few feet into the tunnel and aimed. She heard a thick, heavy and metallic clank against the concrete after the jolt of the rifle. She let the strap of the PSR carry it and shifted it to her back, walking on to see that not fifty yards away, the man was writhing as his neck betrayed him to death.

He looked up at her and gasped, one hand frantically holding onto his bleeding neck. She pulled a gun from her hip and aimed. His eyes went wide for a moment until she pulled the trigger. Quickly killed, his eyes still bore into hers and she stared at him for a moment.

The walk back to the control room wasn't the easiest in her life, but it was the quickest. Orion met her and offered a hand to help her jump down. She took it without thinking. She looked around to see that only one of their own had been injured; it looked superficial, but a wound nonetheless.

"They'll be back when these boys don't go home," Orion said sternly.

"It'll be a day. High command will give it a day before they start getting worried," Adalyn said tiredly.

"Sounds about right. Becker, Hiro, get their weapons. Good shooting, by the way. I can see why you got that gun."

"Gets the job done," she had her eyes on the dead soldiers.

"You okay?"

"Ready to be home, is all."

"Where's home nowadays?"

She smiled a little nostalgically, "Boros."

"You're on a ship though, right?"

"Not for much longer, I think. I think I'll be heading to Boros. Go home."

"Well, you could always get safe passage with one of our convoys. We got one scheduled to land in a few weeks what could take you there."

"No, thanks. I have a ship that'll take me."

"Well, you deserve it, at any rate. We're grateful for the help, to be sure."

"Anything to help against the Alliance."

One man came up and whispered into Orion's ear. Orion looked at her and kept on listening before pulling away. The soldier walked off towards the tunnel, heading for the compound.

"Everything okay?"

"We should get back," Orion said, his manner anything but relaxed.

"What's wrong?"

"Head out," he yelled over his shoulder at the remaining men before he looked back at her, "Just eager to get back, is all."

He was lying and she could read it all over his body language. But now wasn't the time to cause trouble by questioning him. She nodded and started for the tunnel. She stayed in pace with him and a step back, letting him lead the way. There was nothing worse than not knowing at the moment. Whyever he'd called everyone back, it wasn't good. It didn't reassure her in the least that he kept his hand on his weapon.

The walk to the compound didn't last terribly long, but it was long enough for her to feel threatened. The body language of the group changed. Became eager and restless and angry. She wished she could put her hand on her gun but doing that at the moment might trigger whatever had boiled up among the men. Hushed whispers and jerky motions kept her on her toes and she watched everywhere at once to see if anything would happen. God, how she wished Jayne were around. He wouldn't be much good at diplomacy, but just his presence would make her feel safer. That was what she needed right now.

Simon was the first to greet her when they got back. The rest of the men went on and she stayed near him. He watched them go before turning his attention back to her. She doubted he was good enough to know the body language she was reading, but he at least knew something was off. She was quickly grateful she'd had enough foresight to keep his small stock of guns hidden.

"Is everything okay?"

She watched the others, "No. Something's wrong."

"Are we in danger?"

"We very well could be," she said distractedly when Orion started towards them. She straightened and put her hand close to her hip gun, hoping it would be enough of a message not to start something.

"We need to talk."

She tried to smile, "Speak your piece."

He glanced at Simon before looking back at her, "We think there's a mole in the compound."

"And who do you think it is?"

"The men are saying it's your medic."

Simon gaped, "Me?"

She gently put a hand on his and he looked at her before shutting up. She rose to her full height and stared back at Orion; that glare she used when she wanted to get things done, "He's no Alliance rat."

"Men said they saw him send a wave during the night. Funny that first thing this morning the Alliance knows where we're hiding."

Damn, she could kill the boy if they didn't do it first. He should've known better than to get in touch with anyone at a time like this. Likely it was harmless, but it was too late to prove it now.

"He's no mole. You have my word."

"Then you can account for the wave?"

"I told him to get in touch with his kin. Didn't want them to worry. Simple as that," and she hoped it really was.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough."

She smiled, "Then we've got a problem. Because he's my responsibility and you won't be laying a hand on him."

"We've got no quarrel with you."

"A fight with him is a fight with me. And believe you me, you're not ready for that."

Orion looked her over and then looked to Simon. The boy was standing his ground, she could give him that much. And he looked about ready to ask her then and there why she was standing up for him. That was why she would never trust doctors. No instinct no matter how much you tried to beat it into them.

She blamed her tiredness and malnutrition for getting hit. For not being fast enough to block the jab at her jawline. She went down to the ground and the moment she gained her bearings, she pulled a gun to aim at Orion. She wasn't the only one.

Simon had a gun aimed at his head, too.

"We're not your enemies."

Orion looked between both guns and then down at Adalyn, "Won't matter if you shoot me. The boys'll take you apart the moment you run out of bullets."

"They won't have to," Simon said snidely.

Adalyn stayed down with her hand out, hoping there was something Simon knew that she didn't and also not hoping it at the same time.

"And why's that?"

Simon smiled, "There was a mole here before she and I ever came in."

Orion bristled and Adalyn got one arm under herself, pushing off the dirty concrete and soil. They both had guns aimed at him and she put herself next to Simon, making damn well sure that she looked like she had an idea of what he was talking about.

"And how'd you figure that?"

"The wave I sent only got through because a ship in orbit was boosting the signal. Unless you have a ship up there, it means it was civilian or Alliance."

"That doesn't mean anything," Orion snapped.

Adalyn smiled, "It does when you couple it with the fact that you were deemed KIA at Du-Khan. Way I remember it, that battle went in favor of Browncoats until the Alliance was able to predict a tactical run. A coded run. Seeing you healthy in the here and now makes me wonder just what you bargained with to keep your sorry ass in one piece."

"I'm no Alliance dog."

"And neither are we. But you're not looking so reputable right now, Commander Roderick."

The group of men had come together and was watching the exchange with more interest now that the gauntlet had been thrown down. Adalyn looked around at the confused faces. The men were looking between themselves and their leader.

She sneered, "You gave them a different last name, didn't you?"

"I had it changed after the war. Lot of folk did the same. Besides, ifI were theirs, why wait until now to pull the plug and give them our location?"

"Oh, I have no doubt that Simon might've tipped them off. But the broadwave signal had to've been already routed for him to make that mistake. You were just holding out a little longer until you could get paid for your betrayal."

"You've got no ground to stand on. No background. Just 'cause you say you're a Santayana don't mean you are one. God knows no Santayana ever did any good for anyone, anyhow!"

Her trigger finger tightened and a shot fired off. Orion yelped and grabbed at his wounded leg. He fell to the ground and held his bleeding wound. Adalyn stared dumbfounded because she hadn't taken the shot.

Simon had.

He was vehemently looking down at the bigger man, "I think we disagree on that point."

Adalyn looked around at the silent group of men, "So, who are you going to believe?"

Both she and Simon kept their hands ready to pull the trigger. She waited, anxious, hoping there was enough common sense in the young grunts to figure out their own futures as well as hers and Simon's. There was a bit of movement. One man she didn't know the name of stood next to Simon. That was all it took. They rippled closer, looking at their leader like the scumbag he was. She didn't have to say a thing. They tied him up before throwing him into a corner. She holstered her gun and Simon followed suit.

"Well, that went shiny," she said with a small smile.

Simon shrugged, "I've never led a coup before."

"Know the feeling. Okay, people. The Alliance knows where we are. That means they'll be coming back. We can't take them all and we don't want to. Best bet is to move to the control room. Barricade the entrances. At least we'll have some defense there. Is there a ladder to the surface in here?"

The same young man who'd stepped up by Simon nodded, "Two. One in each antechamber."

"Good. Keep the wounded back here. We'll set up camp in the control room. Things go wrong there, this is the fallback position. We can escape to the surface if we need to from either area."

"All of our heavy artillery is in the control room."

"Shiny, we'll be sure to use it. I want a scout in the forward section of tunnel. Radio in at the first sign of company."

The man nodded and barked out the order before turning back to her with an outstretched hand, "We haven't been properly introduced. Name's Josiah. Fought in the first war. Never met your kin, but I'm sure they were good men if you're anything to go by."

She smiled and took his hand, "Appreciate it. Glad for the help."

"Anything to give those _hwoon dahn_s a run for their money. How long do you think we have until reinforcements show up?"

"I'd say eighteen hours. That'd be the first we see them. Can we set up more triggers further down the tunnels?"

"Only got three left. Most of them are backstock that got thrown here from other planets. Couldn't even say if they work."

"Well, get some one on it. We need more warning. More warning and more fighters."

"No one else around. Not on this planet. We're on our own."

"No, we're not," Simon said.

Adalyn smiled when she instantly knew who Simon wanted to get in touch with. She nodded and sighed, "_Serenity_'s likely to be in orbit still."

"_Serenity_? That the ship rumors talk about?" Josiah asked.

"Depends on the rumor," Adalyn started towards the comm panel.

Simon caught up with her about the same time Josiah did. She absently yanked out the chip of concrete and wiped the blood on her soiled pants.

"But how are we going to get in contact with them without the Alliance knowing about it?"

"Use code the Alliance doesn't know," she said simply, "Mal's enough of a traditionalist, he should be able to figure some things out if that brainy sister of yours can't."

She opened the screen and quickly put one hand over the camera and another finger over the microphone. She could help but smile at the confused faces from Simon and Josiah when she started tapping arrhythmically to an unheard beat. Keeping her face from the viewer, she tapped with her index finger. It took a little time, but she did what she wanted to do.

With her face still blocked out from the viewer camera, she turned off the panel and looked at Simon. His brow was furrowed.

"What was that?"

"Morse code."

"What?" Josiah asked.

"It's an Earth-that-Was code. Military used it a lot. The Alliance doesn't use it. It's too outdated. Mal just might know it."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Well, we've got a problem then, don't we? So, we don't expect help and assume we'll be dealing with a siege situation. Any rebar that's come down, use to brace the manhole covers so the Alliance can't yank them up on us. We'll need a quick way out."

"The manhole over the sick ward dumps into a warehouse. The sensor we have up there says it's empty save for crates and debris," Josiah said.

"Well, that's our best route of escape. Do any of the men have civilian clothes?"

"All of us do, yeah. Want us to get changed in case we have to run?"

"It'll help us blend in better if we get pushed topside. All the rations, push in with the sick. Get the walking wounded. If they can hold a gun, I want them active. Cut meals in half. Are there any men with a foot six feet under?" she looked at Simon.

It took him a moment to realize he was being spoken to and asked a question. He nodded quickly, "Eight. Two likely won't make it through the night."

"How many dead?"

"Seven. In total," Josiah said.

"Well, no food and water for the critical. Just for the healthy and walking wounded. Dead might come in handy if we need a distraction."

Simon gaped at her. She didn't much care. She was trying to go through the numbers in her head and see how many days they could last if they were blocked in.

"You can't ask me to let them die."

"I'm not. I'm telling you not to feed them."

"They'll die without food and water."

"It won't matter if we can't defend this place. At best, we'd be able to last a week, maybe ten days, with the rations we have. That's assuming we don't loose any men."

She felt a tug on her waistband. She looked down a bit to see Tian at her side with a sleepy and dirty face, "What about me and dad?"

She felt her heart drop. Her world kaleidoscoped for a moment until she looked up to see Zhian with a knowing smile. _Never think twice about what it takes to accomplish something_. It wasn't an encouraging smile, but it was enough to make her heart start again.

"You'll be safe. Simon will take care of you. And he's as brave as they come."

"I don't want you guys to fight."

"Sometimes there's no choice. But don't you worry about a thing. You'll be home sooner than you know it. Go grab some breakfast."

He nodded and dragged his feet over to the food racks where the shiny covered protein bars were stashed. She watched him go.

"Can we spare anyone to get him and the vet home?"

"Not without risking a trace," Josiah answered.

That was hard to swallow. A child in a war zone was one thing. A child in a war zone on the front lines because of her, was another. The lump in her throat caught and stung for a moment. But she nodded and sighed,

"Once the work gets done, get everyone to sleep off the day. It might be the only chance we get at it once they come back."

Josiah nodded and moved off, pulling aside soldiers to put to task. Only these weren't soldiers. These weren't regular military. These were men who'd mostly come from little or no military background. These were men who had never seen battle save for the few veterans like Orion and Josiah. She moved in the opposite direction with the thought, towards the gun racks.

Simon followed. She doubted he was done with his medical-Hippocratic-oath crap, but she didn't actually mind because it meant at least someone still had a little heart, if not a great deal of pragmatism.

He just watched her mentally inventory the guns for a moment. Never said a word, just watched apathetically. She was actually grateful when he decided to say something.

"You plan on keeping me back here, don't you?"

The breath she didn't realize she was holding was let out silently, "Yes, I do."

"So I can treat wounded or so I won't get hurt?"

"Both."

"I might not be much of a fighter, but I'd rather be out there with you. In case something happens."

"Why did you pull a gun on Orion?"

He looked momentarily shocked and confused, "What?"

"Why'd you pull the gun on him?"

"He hit you."

"Is that the reason? Or was it because I'm pregnant and you felt I couldn't do it?"

He hesitated and she smiled sardonically, "And you wonder why I didn't tell anyone."

"I don't doubt what you can do just because you're expecting," he backpedaled.

"You just want to babysit me now that I am. I can't have that. I need you back here and I need you to take care of Tian."

Simon looked over at the boy. He was eating at his father's side, oblivious to the nervousness in the room. She watched him, too. She could only hope her child had as much strength as that little boy.

"He's worth taking care of."

She nodded, "He is."

"And so are you."

"I can kill a man at two-hundred yards. Tian can't."

He smiled, "Good point."

She pulled the PSR around to her front and started loading the magazine for it, "I am grateful, though."

"What?"

"That you pulled the gun."

"You've rubbed off on me," he admitted, "Besides, they were planning to kill me."

She smiled and slapped the magazine back into place. She loaded it up on her back and sighed, turning to look at the men that were running about to do what she needed done.

"You should sleep while you can. You won't be getting much rest once the Alliance comes back."

"I still want to be out there with you."

She smiled tiredly and looked at him, "When you asked me to teach you to fight, I said it would lead to killing. That doesn't mean you should go look for a man to kill. If your soul's clean, keep it that way."

She waked away, willing to take a nap herself before she was forced out on the front lines of a new battle. Her little corner wasn't occupied and Tian looked like he would be willing to sleep more, too. That would be—

"I killed Hamza."

She stopped fully before turning to look at him. He looked like the weight had been shifted back onto his shoulders. Like he'd had to remind her, of all people, of that day. Like he'd had to remind himself.

She nodded, "Doesn't make you a killer."

His face screwed up in confusion. She walked back to him and he shook his head, "What do you mean?"

"Being a killer is condemning a man. You just did what I gave you the chance to. I'm the one who brought him for you to execute. I convicted him. You were just the executioner."

"Do you think I made the right choice?"

"I do. Doesn't mean I feel better about it."

"You don't treat me differently."

"Because I'm me. Do you think Kaylee would've been cuddly that night if she found out?"

He was quiet. She hated to think about what him killing would do to his relationship with her, but it was bound to come up eventually.

"If you kill again, she'll know about it. And it will be rough. No different than facing Daryl after I killed Oktan. When you kill someone in front of the person you love or used to love, it changes things. You weren't ready to handle it then. Maybe when it happens next time, you will be. But this won't be that time."

She walked away again. Half of her wanted to be alone while the other half wanted him to keep following her. She wasn't sure which bit of her would be more practical, but she knew what she wished for. Tian ran up to her, offering a shiny bar of protein. Taking it and sitting in her corner near Zhian, she watched Simon move to the medical supplies. No doubt he was categorizing them for the wounds to come.

"Will we win?" Tian asked, snuggling up to her.

Adalyn smiled and wrapped an arm around him, "We'll give them a whupping, that's for sure."

He smiled, "Good. Then we get to go home? All of us?"

She tried to keep her smile, "Well, you and your dad get to go home, if that's what you mean."

"I wanna go with you. On your ship."

She looked at Zhian. The man sighed for her, "No, Tian. We don't belong on a ship. We have our home."

"But can't she keep us safer?"

"Once she gets rid of the Alliance, we'll be safer. We don't need to go on a ship."

"But I want to. I wanna see all the planets and have adventures."

"I won't be staying on the ship for long, Tian. I'm going home, too."

"Where's your home?"

She shrugged, "Well, I guess I'll be making a new home."

"We could help. We could decorate and help make your new home."

She nestled tighter, pulling the boy halfway onto her lap. She combed her fingers through his hair and nodded, "Maybe. Your dad and I can talk about it. Besides, won't you miss your home here?"

Zhian smiled, "What home?"

She almost laughed, "Okay then. You're welcome to come with me. We can make a new home."

"With a big kitchen," Tian piped up.

"With a big kitchen," she echoed.

Orion laughed at them. Tian looked between her and the bigger man. She gently set the boy off her lap before smiling at him, "It's okay."

She stood and walked over to Orion. His leg wound was still bleeding a bit through makeshift bandages.

"Something amusing?"

"You think you're getting out of here?"

She smiled snidely, yanking him up by his collar and throwing him into the medical room out of sight of Tian. She followed and kicked; he rolled and found himself up against the wall. Most of the men ignored them. She hunched down and slammed a hand against the wall by his ear. The fact that he flinched made her smile a little more on the inside.

"Any reason you think otherwise?" she asked.

"You're not getting out of here. Not you, not your callboy, and not that kid. The Alliance will mow you down like the bitch you are."

"You're wrong. You're just some coward too afraid to stand for what he believes in. Ran away at the first sign you might lose. Betrayed good men. My brothers. Did the Alliance treat you right? Give you the perks you didn't get with the Independents?"

"Damn right."

"Ever think you didn't deserve them?"

"You have no idea what they can do. They have people. Weapons. Things you wouldn't believe."

She got in his face, "I know. I'm one of them."

His pupils got a little bigger and he looked from eye to eye, she was so close. He gaped, trying to get enough breath into his lungs to make sounds or words. She stayed close, her hand still planted aside his head.

"I'm the one that got away. And when I defeat your precious Alliance, count your blessings if I don't kill you, too."

"You're bluffing."

"The white on your face says you believe me. And you should. Because I can do things you wouldn't imagine. You think you've seen weapons? You've never seen me."

"One woman can't take on an army."

"You just be still and silent until I decide to offer you over to them. Maybe they won't kill you. But you sit thoughtful because I can guarantee that you'll be begging them to if I tear into you."

She stood spasmodically and he flinched. She smiled down at him snidely before walking away. She knew, right there and then, that he would have to die. She hated the thought of executing him, but the wave of smug pleasure that ran through her at the thought of it made the notion a bit more bearable, if not a bit more ethical. She smiled warmly when she passed Tian and moved closer to the antechamber where Josiah and other men were working. It would be rough, she had no doubt. But as long as they had escapes, things wouldn't be bleak.

* * *

Simon watched the unbearably silent men. Twelve hours now, and there had barely been a word. Men were working, doing what needed to be done, before they moved into place in the weapon chamber ahead. Besides the rattling of makeshift armor and holsters and the clomping of boots, it was quiet. Still before anticipated battle. He didn't know how the men could handle it. He found it hard enough and he wasn't even going to be on the front lines. So he sat, watching, mindlessly categorizing and recategorizing medical supplies.

"Jo loved Shakespeare. Loved it so much, he was in Hamlet. Convinced me to be in it, too. We performed at the local theatre. I played Ophelia. He played Rosencrantz. He was jealous that I got a better part. It just came so easy to me, the script. Our parents gave us flowers after opening night and we celebrated with a dinner party; the whole neighborhood was there and I made sure they all praised Jo more than me. He was the jealous type."

He had frozen the moment Adalyn came up behind him, but he found a warmth in his gut when she spoke and he turned to face her when she finished, "How old were you?"

"Fifteen. We performed all summer. Daryl came, watched me perform almost every time."

He stayed seated, watching her face soften, "Do you still love him? Daryl?"

She shook her head slowly, confident, "No. I never did. It was arranged, the marriage. We grew up together. It was a familiarity I mistook for love. But nine years apart made it easier to determine."

She sat down next to him and watched the men work in front of her. She put her hand over her stomach, "This baby will be healthy."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. But I can't risk it leading the kind of life Jayne loves. I have to protect it as much as I have to Jayne. That's why you can't tell him or anyone else. They don't need to know."

"It would have a family if you stayed with _Serenity._"

"It would also be hunted. It would see people killed, see me triggered…living with all of you has been amazing, but it's too dangerous. It's no life for a child."

He looked at the men, "If you leave, you'll just be walking into more of this."

She nodded, "But I'll have the option of leaving my child at home, safe, while the world wars on. My home won't be destroyed because we ripped a man of his payment to make ends meet. Daryl has already agreed to set me up, make sure I'm safe. I've done enough on _Serenity_. It's time to move on."

Simon smiled tiredly, "Zoe once told me that you never leave _Serenity_, you just learn to live there."

"Maybe. But I have to try. My child deserves the chance to be safe."

"I'll miss you."

She looked at him and smiled. He could see wells of tears in her eyes, but she swallowed them back and nodded, "All it takes is a life and death battle to get me talking."

He shrugged, "If I had known earlier, I'd have made sure to put you in one."

"Anything else you want to know? Now that I'm talking?"

"Do you love Jayne?"

She stared at him. He caught himself, realizing that it was too late. He'd asked without a second thought. She looked at her feet and smiled ever-so-slightly.

"Yes."

"He loves you, you know."

"No. I don't."

"He'll miss you if you leave. Everyone will. River, especially."

"She's in good hands."

"Think you know her better," he admitted, clasping his hands around his bent knees.

She shrugged, "I always wanted a sister. But River isn't her. I see River…and I see what the Academy could've done to me. Made me less-than-lucid. She and I stay sane because we take refuge in each other's mind. But it's still the mind of someone's who's been methodically tortured. As good as it is when we're around each other, it's good in another way when we're not. Make sense?"

"It does. I just don't understand how you can be so nonchalant about leaving. Aren't you afraid of what might happen? If the Academy finds you?"

She smiled tiredly, "I try not to. But I'm not you. The government gave me this mind with the idea I would never escape. I know instinctively how to stay hidden. Makes me who I am now."

"But what happens if they do find you?"

"I fight them. And if they win, Daryl's agreed to raise this child as his own. That's more assurance than I'd have from Jayne."

"I never thought I'd say it but, he's a better man than we all think."

"Oh, I know. He's just not a family man."

"And Daryl is?"

"He's expecting his first child. With any luck he'll be able to keep the same midwife for me as his own wife."

"Convenient."

"I thought so."

The siren blared. Josiah came running up and Adalyn stood. Simon stood with her and waited, knowing by the look on the man's face that whatever was about to come out of his mouth wasn't of the good-news variety.

"They're coming."

"How many?"

"Scout says over a hundred."

Adalyn stared at him for a moment, "A hundred? They can't fit that many men in a tunnel. He's gotta be wrong."

"No mistake. Triggers are saying the same thing. The first one's still going off."

"Get the men to move out."

He nodded and ran back towards the men, shouting orders as he went. Adalyn quickly walked to the weapon rack and loaded up, shoving more rounds for her PSR in her pant pockets.

"If I die, you don't tell anyone about the baby," she said quietly.

He stared at her, "What?"

"You heard me. It'll be bad enough if I die. No reason for them to know more."

"You're not gonna die."

She smiled, "You can be the optimistic one. Me? I'll play it safe."

She started to walk off and he caught up with her, "You can't give up for this one, Adalyn. It won't work."

"We'll see who's right then, won't we?" she cocked her gun and ran to the head of the line, leaving him there. A small tug drew his attention away from where she'd gone to and he looked down to see Tian. He smiled as warm as he could, knowing the child knew too much.

"She'll be coming back," the boy smiled back.

Simon nodded, "I believe you."

The large blast doors closed behind her and the healthy men, leaving Simon and the others who had been deemed unable to fight behind.

* * *

Boots clomped unceremoniously, making the tunnel seem to vibrate. The scout had pushed himself into another ventilation shaft, telling them via comm just what they were up against as the Alliance prods went past him. Adalyn and Josiah listened. Waited with the men that were willing and able. She'd taken up her spot again on the concrete ledge and knew that if things got bad, she wouldn't be able to get down easily, without injury. All the crates were moved closer, making a barricade that would provide as much shelter as rotted wood planks could. The dead Alliance from earlier were strewn over them. The submachine gun had been assembled and she watched the boys load rounds into the chambers.

She pulled her wrist close to her mouth and whispered, "Tell them not to fire the AV unless we're pulling back."

Josiah looked up at her and his face was laced with confusion, "What? We could push them all back with one shot!" his voice was crackled in her earpiece.

"No. We'll use it if we need to retreat. They won't expect it."

Josiah grunted, "I sure didn't expect it."

"Just do it."

He nodded and walked along the line, passing the order to the two loading up the rounds. They seemed about as confused as Josiah, but nodded and stopped loading rounds.

The scout radioed in again, calling the number higher than a hundred-fifty this time. No heavy artillery, but enough handhelds to give them a run for their money and their ammunition stock.

"You want us to bottleneck them?"

She looked down at Josiah and nodded. He nodded back and the order got passed along. She braced her rifle tight against her shoulder, lying flat down on her belly and wishing there were a more comfortable position to stay concealed in. The math in her head wasn't perfect for all the guilt at the moment, but she was pretty sure they were outnumbered. Maybe not insanely outnumbered, but outnumbered. Two-to-one? Maybe three?

She hoped Simon was keeping Tian comfortable, calm. That boy needed it if for no other reason than she wished for it herself. Simon would be good with kids if he unlaced. That was sure. Doting and protective, but she smiled to think of him wrestling with a son down the line. She envied Kaylee, having that stable relationship. Sure, they got into words now and again, but Simon didn't have enough pride to keep him from apologizing and Kaylee didn't have enough mean in her body to stay angry at him. Not at all like her and Jayne. Their relationship was a rockety ride if ever there was one.

She smiled to think of when she hit Mal. All this time, it still made her smile to herself. She suspected only her and God would ever know why. The smile wasn't so much for hitting Mal as it was for Jayne's response. Those eyes widened. She'd never seen him so surprised. Things had gotten better, but they still had nights where they went to bed angry because of some discontenting notion or another. Was that how she wanted to live? Hope would've wanted more. Would have wanted the stability and security of a relationship liken to Kaylee's. But, laying there with a gun propped against her shoulder, Adalyn didn't seem to care much so long as she got home after the fight.

The Alliance showed their faces. She squeezed her trigger.

* * *

Mal ran up the stairs to the bridge and saw River staring at the controls. He'd been rudely pulled from his first bit of sleep in days and saw that everything appeared normal. He glowered over her, watching something over on the viewer.

"What's this now?"

"Message came through. From Adalyn."

"Okay, what it say?"

River looked up at him, "Don't know. Incoherent rhythmic patterns that don't fit with any codeline base."

He leaned over and in, watching the hand come over the vidcam and then heard the tapping once River turned the volume up. He could vaguely make out something of it, but he looked back to River.

"You know when she sent this?"

"Almost fifteen hours. It was held in the transfer."

"Means the Alliance either don't know what it was or they do. But knowing them, they don't."

"You understand it?"

"Morse. Old way of sending messages. Not hardly a soul knows it anymore. Learned on the ranch, like some others. Some upper class folk who got the notion of being rich enough to afford a teacher in it."

"It doesn't make any logical sense."

"Patterns of dots and dashes, lil' albatross. Not like you can know everything in that skull of yours."

"Can you decipher it?"

"She's asking for help, if I'm not mistaking. Giving us the coordinates about where to find her and Simon. Looks like she's expecting the Alliance to be knocking on her doorstep."

"A fifteen hour delay in communication would put us at a disadvantage considering we'll be unable to land until the rings pass north of the equatorial line in ten hours."

He stared at her. She smiled, "Rings give us the cover to land."

"Got that. But I doubt one day will be enough to kill our chances. Backup for the Alliance is notoriously slow. Likely more'n not she hasn't even engaged yet, 'less the prods were already on the ground. Get us to these coordinates moment you can, lil' albatross," he scribbled them down on a messy pad of paper she always kept with her. She looked at that and nodded.

"Eleven hours. That's when we can get there."

"Not ten?"

"Distance on foot would equal a forty-minute add-on to ETA."

He nodded, "Knew I kept you on for something."

She stared at him, blank, "You kept me because I can fly _Serenity_. Being a mathematical genius isn't what you pay me for."

He smiled, "True. Just a bonus. Get us there, River. Time to save the day."

She nodded, looking at astrological charts he didn't completely understand that were fitting right in with what he supposed were her estimated times. He left her there, walking back down to knock on Zoe and Jayne's doors. Zoe was up quicker, Jayne half asleep when he finally trudged up.

* * *

Adalyn fell. Fell hard and thought for a moment she would be unlucky enough to be hit during the fall before she ever landed. But she landed back-first on a crate that collapsed under her and she rolled off, tucking her PSR tight while grabbing for another magazine. She ran behind the pathetic cover of more crates and dead bodies to find Josiah. He was waiting for her.

"We're getting routed."

"They still haven't pushed us back."

"More ammo, more men, and they're the ones tearing up their own dead to get t'us."

"Time to tear them up right back," she smiled, finding her magazine and popping the old out before the new in.

She popped up over the hedge of crates to fire off the first half of her magazine, taking down some of their sharpshooters before a bullet nipped her right shoulder. She fell back, pushing her back up against the crates for cover.

Josiah looked around, "No damn medic."

"No. We needed him back there."

"You okay?"

"Be fine," she tore a strip of fabric from her shirt bottom and wrapped it around her arm, up and over and under, to cover the bleeding wound. She checked down the line and saw the AV still locked and ready to fire.

"Get someone on the AV. Be ready to use it."

He nodded and ran down the line. She tied one more knot in her makeshift bandage before peering through a hole in the crate to see her next half-dozen targets. She stood, the PSR tight against her bullet wound and smarting more than she realized it would, but she fired the shots. Each shot rebounded the butt of the gun into the sensitive niche of skin around the wound and she pulled herself back behind cover after only four shots.

They were running out of ammo. Seven hours now, and they were finding less ammo less readily, and she knew her own PSR was only ready for another two magazines compared to the twenty or so she'd had. If she did pull through this, it would cost her a pretty penny to resupply the rounds for another fight. Josiah came back crouched, looking at her bleeding wound before handing her a few other guns.

"Men won't be needing them."

She nodded, "Get a detail. Get the wounded back. Simon'll start on them."

"That includes you."

"No. It doesn't. I'm staying until we can't keep fighting."

"You'll bleed out if you keep shooting."

"Good chance to take, don't you think?"

"You're pregnant."

She glared at him with questioning, dangerous eyes.

"My wife had the same morning sickness. Couldn't tell the time of day, but it worked her over good. You telling me you're not?"

She set her face and shouldered the PSR, turning to face the crate. She braced herself. Josiah stayed next to her, eyeing her until she nodded.

"And you're in this fight with a package? You're crazy."

"No doubt about that," she admitted.

"Get back and we'll take care of this."

"No. Not leaving."

She stood and found targets, firing off more rounds than she was sure her shoulder could take. Josiah stood right next to her, waiting until she ducked back down to follow. The plan to bottleneck the prods was working. Only problem was that they had over a hundred gunners when she and Josiah only had half that amount. Less now that there had been injuries.

"Get the injured back."

"As long as you go with them."

"That's an order!" she yelled.

"Nope. Not for me."

She sighed in frustration before standing herself back up to pick off the few prods that had gotten passed the bottleneck. Josiah stood and landed some of the ones who were still behind the increasing pile of bodies in the sewer entrance.

He fell. Adalyn ducked down and watched him land. He didn't get himself back up. She watched another man check his pulse and close his eyes before gritting her teeth to launch herself upright and fire the rest of her magazine. With the last round spent, she ducked back down and tightened the bandage on her shoulder.

Josiah lay there, still, and the soldier who'd attended to his eyes was watching her. She crouched down and moved to his side.

"You want a promotion?"

He shrugged and she continued, "Good. You get the injured back. Raid the dead and get me more ammunition."

"But—"

"Do it!"

He ran off, crouched down low and she watched a dozen or so men who'd been put aside for dead hustled and rounded up. She watched them leave. They dropped their weapons near her, offering their useable guns to any of those still on the line. She slapped a new magazine into her PSR and heard a crackled voice in her ear. She clapped her hand over her ear, trying to hear what the scout was saying.

"Go again!"

The barricade down a ways exploded with shards of woods and remnants of bodies. The voice finally came through and she rolled her eyes to hear his report that they had a subDV they were trying to push through the bottleneck with. She ran down to the AV and sank next to the operator.

"You fire that thing if I tell you, understand? Fire it right at the hole."

"Yes ma'am."

She watched the remaining thirty men or so pick up new weapons that had been dropped by injured and start fighting. Most shots ricocheted off the subDV case. She found a spot to watch while the Alliance loaded it up and waited for the next round to heat up. The first shot had pushed their own dead into the cavernous hole and now they were just trying to clear a better path and take some of her and hers out, too.

Two-to-one. Maybe three. That number still applied. It was just getting harder because as much as they pecked at the Alliance, the Alliance pecked right back. She sat there for a moment and the young man who'd she'd ordered to fire the AV on her command pressed a real bit of cloth against her shoulder wound. She kept the pressure on for a moment, tightening the bandage over the new cloth and moving her shoulder to keep it from freezing up on her. Two magazines left and then she would be out. She could pick up any gun, fire it any way she chose, but this was what she knew and understood.

She looked through her peep-hole again and looked the subDV over, trying to think of how it might explode best if she hit it right. She kissed her PSR and stood, aiming not for the machine but for the men arming it. She hit them away and watched the men scurry about to replace them with living bodies. She ducked down about the time they realized she was up and a shot nicked the crate just when she got under the cover of it. She sighed and looked down the line. They were doing what they could, taking any shot they had, and it wouldn't be enough. Too many were getting nipped by bullets from the prods when they fired off their rounds. Too many were dead and too many more were unable to hit a damn thing even when they could get up the nerve to stand.

She stood again and fired another half-dozen rounds. The pounding on her shoulder was either getting too painful for her body to deal with, or she'd lost too much blood to feel the pain anymore. Either option wasn't a hopeful one.

The subDV fired off and she didn't have time to yell out the warning before the line ten feet away was blown back, killed and demolished and covered with shards of woods and remnants of soldiers. She cursed under her breath and hit the operator on the shoulder before giving him a five-fingered wait hand. He nodded and hit all the buttons, getting ready to push the big yellow one at the base when the core heated up.

She yelled down the line to retreat. With the bottlenecking bodies gone, blown away, the Alliance was coming closer. Her people scrambled back, keeping weapons with them and she smiled to herself that at least they knew that much. She stood and gave them cover fire, picking off the Alliance rushing them before they tried to shoot back at her and she was forced to her knees. She looked to the operator and nodded. He slammed the button and ran to the exit, her not far behind.

She'd gotten about thirty feet when the AV went off, rocking her to her knees. The operator helped her up and they ran. They could hear the screams and shouts of soldiers who'd been hit with rubble, of those who'd been pushed back while the cartridge exploded in the tunnel entrance. No cave in and for that she found herself mixed with emotions.

The man who'd helped her up kept her steady while they ran the trek back to the back room. The doors slammed shut once they were inside and bolted down. She couldn't find Simon, or Tian, or anyone she knew. All bloody faces and bodies, most unrecognizable.

She moved to the sick ward and saw the men she'd evacuated getting treated by other sick and invalids. Simon was nowhere.

"Simon!"

If that boy had gone out looking for her…she would kill him if the Alliance didn't first, "Simon!"

He ran up and she realized why she suddenly hadn't seen him. He'd changed from his vest and shirt to yank on the military jumpsuit some of the boys were wearing. It looked bloodied and the practicality of him changing to save lives made her smile.

"You're hurt," he said.

"I'll be fine. Have had worse. You able to save any of them?"

"Half. Some…there was too much trauma."

She nodded, overlooking the men in various states of injury and death, "Well, just do damage control. Won't be able to save them all. Save who you can."

"Where's Josiah?"

"Dead. You ready to help?"

He looked at her, "I thought this was me helping," he surveyed the sick ward.

"No. The Alliance has to have more men than we thought. They're gonna be coming and I need your help."

"Of course."

"We need to evacuate everyone except you and me. Get them to this wing and the other and get them to ground because I don't want them down here."

"And us?"

"We're gonna finish this."

He stared, blank, "How, exactly?"

"Just do it. Get them all up to ground."

"They won't listen to me."

"They will. Just do it."

"Some of these men can't be moved. More won't be able to climb."

"Then make sure they stay behind the wing doors. We need them out of sight."

"What exactly are you planning?"

"You're gonna trigger me."

She walked off, seeing the man she'd hastily promoted in the field and she wanted to spread the word. Simon trailed behind, uttering vowel sounds at what she'd said. He was trying to say full words, but she had to ignore him because she knew what she had to do.

"You. Name?" she asked, coming up to the man she'd promoted.

He looked scared, "Ahbrams, ma'am."

"Ahbrams, you feel like helping me out again?"

He nodded hastily.

"Good. Get everyone back behind the wing doors. Get those who can walk up to ground and do it right now."

"I don't understand."

"We've got maybe ten minutes 'til the Alliance tries to blast those doors down. _Dong ma_? So we need to get everyone out of harms way. Now go. Get everyone back!"

He ran off, spreading the order the best he could. She was grateful at least that the men were doing what she'd asked. She ran herself over to the medical supplies, searching hastily for a vial.

"I'm not…you can't ask me to do that to you."

"Not asking. Telling."

Simon came up next to her, "What are you looking for?"

"Dehydroxyphan."

"That's a neural stimulant."

"Do you have any?"

"I won't trigger you."

"Simon, you listen to me: this is all we've got. We're running out of ammo and we are running out of fighters. I need you to trust me when I say this is the best bet we've got. Please."

He stared at her, "It's in the rollcart."

She dashed for it, finding the few vials left and taking them with her to the front entrance. Simon stood over her, watching, purplexed, while she emptied her half-full magazine to dunk the bullets in the liquid. About the time she started loading them back in, he scoffed.

"You think I'm going to shoot you?"

She snapped the magazine in place and took her PSR and its strap off her shoulder, showing it to him, "One hit will do it. Just has to be a graze, you understand? I don't feel like losing too much more blood. Don't shoot 'til you think they're all inside. It has a silencer on it. You miss, you fire again until you hit me. You've got eight shots. You hit me, wait until you see blood just to be sure, and then you roll and hide until you don't hear anymore screaming, okay?"

He stared at her, blank, "You're kidding."

"No. I'm not."

"Not even Jayne fires this gun. No one does."

"I'd take it as a kindness if you didn't tell him. Now, she'll dislocate your arm if you're not holding her right. Tuck her as tight into your shoulder as you can bear. You tuck her into your armpit, your arm's coming out it's socket. She's gonna kick and you might get a black eye, but you've had worse. So you shoot me, you make sure I'm bleeding, and then you don't look until the screaming's done."

"How will I stop you?"

"You won't. Stop myself when the targets are gone so you make sure you hide your eyes and don't look down."

"Down?"

She looked up over her head at the similar ledge that ran over the doors, "Up there. You get up there and you hide until its over."

He shook his head when she tried to hand over the PSR, "No. No, this is ridiculous. Forget it. I'm not doing this to you. You have no idea what it could do to you or your baby."

"This baby won't make it much longer if we don't fight our way out of this. Look, I trust you. I don't like to think I do, but I do. I trust you to shoot me and I trust you to not kill me. I need you to trust me back. Remember when those boys came knocking for Mal, they found us instead?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't shoot then because I didn't trust myself to make the shot. I can't shoot this time so I'm trusting you to do it for me."

"Adalyn…"

"It's the surest bet out of here and you know it."

He took the gun and nodded. She looked around, saw the doors to one side wing start to close. Simon, and those running around, jumped when the first blast came against the main doors. She interlaced her fingers and held them down at her knees. Simon slid the PSR onto his shoulder, let the strap carry it, steadied himself on her shoulders and she hoisted him up. The ledge wasn't very wide, but it would do. He was on his stomach when she walked away, making sure the Alliance wouldn't be able to see him right when they entered. The door was blasted at again from the other side.

She ran towards Zhian and helped him and Tian into the sickward. Tian held fast onto her arm when she tried to leave.

"They'll kill you."

"No. They won't. Trust me."

"One woman can't take on an army," Zhian said tiredly.

"This woman can. Just you wait and see. Now you stay hidden. Don't open the doors, okay? If the men tell you to climb up, you do it."

"But—"

"Tian please. Please listen to me. I'll come back. I need you to watch your dad. Please."

The boy nodded after hesitation and took his father's hand. A soldier helped Zhian walk farther back into the dark sickward. Ahbrams came up near her.

"That's everyone."

"Good. Get those you can to ground. The rest keep behind the doors. Far back should there be shooting. If I don't come get in within an hour, get everyone out anyway you can. Make sure they understand that on the other side, too."

"Yes, ma'am," he started towards the other side of the room.

"And Ahbrams, good job."

He smiled and she walked back out to the middle of a now empty chamber. Simon was still perched up on the ledge and her cursory check told her that he was at least shouldering the gun right. Boy looked too gentle to have that scope in front of his face. But that's where it was.

If Jayne had been here with her, she'd have let him shoot it. Just because he'd always wanted. No matter if she were to be triggered or not. He deserved the chance to play with her toy. But Simon was the one she was relying on and damn she wished she had a capture to show Kaylee just what her man looked like mussed and armed. Kinda amusing, actually.

The doors buckled a bit, drawing her attention. The side sets of doors were fully closed and she could hear the deadbolts on either side of her. She stood there, taking stock of just how wretched she looked. Vomit, blood, dirt and concrete, makeshift bandages…she needed a bath. A long soak and scrub bath.

She looked up at Simon again. She smiled and she could see him smile right back. She raised her voice a little.

"Make sure to keep it shouldered tight."

He nodded.

The doors buckled a bit more, screaming as metal ground against metal. She waited. Her eyes fell on Simon again. He was already aiming, but his finger was away from the trigger. She pointed to her upper arm on her left side. He nodded. She had no doubt that he would fail to graze her and would end up blasting a hole into her arm instead. She smiled. She'd never been shot with her own PSR before.

The doors blew open, dust flying and bouncing lights around, settling and letting the light glare at her while she stood, patiently knowing they wouldn't fire at just her so long as she was still.

* * *

Simon had never seen her triggered before. He'd seen the aftermath, seen enough to know he didn't want to see, but he'd never been there when she became a weapon. The soldiers at her front had no idea who she would become in a moment. What she would turn into. He pressed his eye against the scope, trying to remember everything her, Mal and Jayne had taught him about shooting. Tight to the shoulder. There were still more coming in. They just had their guns leveled at her. Typical Alliance. No shooting unless they were shot at.

Movement out of the corner of the scope. He brought his face out from behind it, seeing Tian run towards Adalyn. Adalyn saw it, too, and the moment she saw it, so did the Alliance. One shot and he saw Tian fall back, bloodied and dead. Adalyn, for all her training, tried to leave the plan and run to his side. She was held back by soldiers. Simon readied his trigger finger. Now or never, he would have to shoot her even though it was the last thing she needed at the moment. He tightened the trigger, hoping that she would forgive him for doing what he was about to do.

She kicked the man holding her arm. Simon pulled his face away from the scope again. Watched when she hurled the man into the crowd. The doors slammed shut behind the troops. She moved fast. Whether she had been triggered or not, he didn't know for sure. He just saw man after man go down, bloody.

And then she was still. The remaining soldiers didn't fire and Simon realized it was because they were being disassembled on the inside. Adalyn was staring blankly ahead. The soldiers crumpled, blood flowing from every orifice on their bodies. Eyes, fingernails, mouth, nose…every single bit of them that she could destroy, she was. They screamed. Fell to their knees screaming and holding themselves, begging for her to stop. Most couldn't even do that for the blood in their mouths.

He'd heard those screams before.

* * *

Mal shifted his gun, letting the strap carry it while he found the coordinates on the posloc. The mule was parked outside and this bitty warehouse wasn't like nothing he thought it'd be. First off, he'd been under the impression that Addy was holed up in the sewers. And the more he saw of the warehouse, the more he realized this had to have been the wrong location.

"See anything?" Jayne asked.

"Not a gorramn thing."

"These the coords she gave?"

"Yeah."

"Ain't nothing here but supplies."

Mal nodded, looking around. He heard metallic grinding and he shouldered his gun, Jayne doing the same. They walked around the crates and munitions boxes to see a jerryrigged manhole being pushed aside.

A civilian came up only Mal quickly realized he wasn't a civilian. Gun was a bit too much for even someone like Addy. He and Jayne stayed hidden for a moment, watching while others filed out the stairwell. Mal put his gun down, moved to the side, and waited.

The first soldier came within arms reach ad he grabbed him, smiling while Jayne took the gun away. Mal covered his mouth, moving them out of sight of the crowd.

"Got two questions: one, you a rebel, and two, you hear of a gal named Adalyn?"

The man's brow furrowed but he nodded. Mal smiled a bit more genuine, "Good then. Looks to be we're on the same side. I'm gonna take my hand off your mouth, and you're gonna stay calm. _Dong ma_?"

He nodded again. Mal did so and the man relaxed, looking between them. Jayne kept his gun, though. The man sighed.

"Too late."

Jayne bristled. Mal straightened, "Too late?"

"She's down below. Sent us all up on account of the Alliance."

"She's alive though, right?" Jayne asked.

"Couldn't say for how much longer. They had at least hundred-fifty. She said to get us all to ground. Adamant."

"Who's in charge?"

"Say that'd be me."

Mal looked behind him and smiled gratefully. Monty. Man had come after all. If anyone knew anything about some resistance ring, it would be Monty and Mal was grateful the burly man had about three dozen armed folk with him.

"Heard tell Roderick was giving us all a run for the cashy," he said solemnly.

The man Mal had grabbed nodded, "Yes, sir."

"He alive?"

"Yeah. Down below."

"I got two of mine down there," Mal said quickly.

Monty nodded, "Lets get'em out. Boy, get your people out. We're going down."

The man nodded, ran off and barked out orders. Mal smiled again at Monty, "Good to see you."

"Good to be seen. You got two down there, you said?"

"Yeah. Doc and a cook. Or assassin, depends on the day. Glad to see you got my wave."

"Wouldn't've missed this for the 'verse."

The other group was quickly exiting, leaving Mal and Jayne, Monty and his boys there to sort out the mess. Fun times, to be sure. Mal was the first down the manhole while Monty talked with some of the boys who'd come up. Jayne followed him down. They had to let their eyes adjust even though the room had meager lights. Mal looked around, saw some folk what were too beat up to be climbing the ladder. One was limping, walking around calling a name.

"She ain't down here," Jayne said.

Mal looked forward, "The doors. Must lead to another room."

Monty came down the ladder, some of his men following. They convened at the door, lifting the heavy deadbolt slide that was keeping it shut tight. Monty got it budged before the others, Mal grateful that the vet had managed to bring not only his own self but reinforcements besides. They got the door open and the relative bright light of the room kept them from seeing anything for the first moment.

But Mal saw enough when his eyes finally adjusted.

A small body was lying face up, bloody, not twenty feet away and Adalyn was standing in a spreading pool of blood, roundabouts sixty men fallen near her, not too far beyond that. There was only one standing and she was looking dead at him.

He ran over, stepping over bodies, "Addy!"

She was motionless. The solider she was facing looked like he was seeing the face of the devil and when Mal got to her front, he could understand why. Her face was smeared with blood and he was quite sure none of it was hers. Monty stayed back a bit while Jayne was right at his side, watching his girl watch nothing. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, but they were haunting.

He and Jayne both shouldered their guns when they heard movement behind them. They spun to see Simon climbing down from a ledge over the doorway. He dropped the few feet to the ground but landed on his feet. Mal tried not to wonder too much why the boy was sporting Adalyn's PSR on his back.

"Adalyn?" Jayne asked, ignoring the boy and turning to his girl.

The soldier she'd been staring blankly at fell to his knees. Mal, Jayne and Simon turned to look at him, not sure which of them was more fit to be the object of attention.

"Please…please don't let her kill me."

Monty walked up with a gun, aiming it at the young man. Adalyn's hand snapped out, grabbing his arm and stopping him. Monty stared at Mal and Mal just shook his head.

"I won't kill you," she said softly, her voice like flint.

They all stared at her.

"You need to live. You need to tell them what happened here. Tell him what I did to your friends. Tell him how you shot a child. Go back to your ship and tell them to leave."

He nodded, standing slowly. Adalyn held out her hand, beckoning, "Give me your comm and your tags."

The man quickly handed over the small device and the badges hanging around his neck under the uniform.

"Go home."

He hesitated but started walking backwards, his eyes always on Adalyn. He finally ran and that was when she closed her grip around the objects he'd given her. She stood there, holding the stuff to her chest for a moment.

A gun cocked and Mal reacted the best way he knew how. He looked for the threat with his gun in front of his face. They all did, even Simon. But Adalyn stayed still, turning slowly to see the threat that her men had aimed at.

"Zhian, put it down," Simon said.

"We trusted you and you got him killed!"

The man limped closer and his eyes and gun were trained on Adalyn. She just stared at him, devoid of anything but a blank face.

"It wasn't her fault."

"Bitch! He trusted you!"

Mal looked beyond the man to see the child still dead on the floor. No doubt there was some relation that the man was taking personally. But Simon stepped forward a bit, the PSR still shouldered and, if Mal was a judge, shouldered correctly.

"He ran out. The Alliance killed him."

"And she let him go! My son…"

"I'm sorry," Adalyn whispered.

Zhian turned the gun to his temple and squeezed the trigger. Only Adalyn didn't jump when it went off, or when the body hit the ground. She just stared at them, watching the father's blood meet the son's.

Jayen 's eyes glanced over at Simon, "Why you wearing her PSR?"

* * *

"_My name doesn't matter. But by now, you know what I can do and that's all that's important. I am demanding the immediate withdrawal of troops from Beylix. Failure to comply will result in more deaths. I am not declaring war. I am asking for immunity for this world in light of the botched assault. Revealing the Alliance's misfortune of killing innocent children will only further incite violence. I am offering to keep quiet my knowledge of your company's blatant failure in exchange for you getting the hell out of this place. I think after you talk to your lieutenant you'll find my offer more than reasonable. You have twelve hours to comply. Failure to do so will see you and your ship destroyed, with no quarter given to any non-military personnel aboard. Your time starts now. So make your choice_."

* * *

The funeral was something else. Something Simon couldn't put his finger on. He'd been to some funerals, more now that he was with _Serenity_, but this was different. He'd never seen so many come to mourn. A whole regiment of underground rebels, the crew, Monty and his boys…so many for those who'd been killed. He was sure though that the only people Adalyn sang for were Zhian and Tian. He'd never heard her sing and he wished he'd never have to if it meant that boy being alive. But she sang and he wondered why none of them had ever known how soulful she was. How she could move people with that voice. Thick with emotion, but a face blank and dirtied. He watched her, Kaylee at his side, while she stood alone at the foot of Tian's small grave. Most of the dead had been buried in a mass grave. But father and son were left in adjoining graves, away from the city. Some small tree with a nondescript headstone. Simon watched her, standing alone, while she sang.

* * *

Rumors went around, of course. Possible explanations as to why the Alliance so quickly stopped fighting and pulled up more militant-roots, leaving behind only the barest of paramilitary. Rumors ranging from a negotiated surrender to a full-on backlash in progress. But Mal kept his mouth shut to the other captain, choosing solemn gratefulness instead of pretended speculation. He got his goods delivered, no Alliance to be seen, and he still couldn't find a reason to smile when he and Zoe walked back to the boat with a heavy pouch of cashy.

Adalyn had stayed in her bunk for the most part. Simon had insisted on her being bedridden and seeing her state of being, Mal couldn't much disagree. But the worst part was Adalyn refusing to fight it.

Monty had docked nearby. The boys who'd seen the carnage had questions. But Monty mostly let that curiosity fade away considering just what they all assumed Adalyn had done to that brigade. If they'd asked, Mal would've told Monty, at least. He wouldn't've said everything, but just enough for them to know that it was all Adalyn's doing.

He walked down to the common, Zoe moving to the bridge with the cashy, and found Jayne sitting outside Adalyn's room. He looked at him, silent. Jayne shrugged.

"Said she needed to take a bath," he gestured to the showers behind the infirmary.

Mal nodded, "She say anything?"

"Nothing. Just walking 'round like some haunt. Think she had a soft spot for the kid."

"Would be surprised if it was anything else."

"You tell Monty how she did it? Kill all those men?"

"He didn't ask. Though I'm sure he knows it was her. Doc don't carry himself to be a slaughter-fiend."

Jayne's jaw tightened a bit, "She let him shoot the gun."

Mal shrugged, "Not like there was anyone else. Not like he actually got the chance, what I hear."

"Still…she trusted him to do it."

"You think it would'a been you, you been down there instead of him?"

He nodded, "Still eats at me though."

Mal leaned against the ladder, "Monty's got some heavy cargo. Need you to work on the transfer if'n you feel good leaving her for a spell."

He nodded, "Be good to move around."

"Well, make yourself useful."

Jayne stood, "Check in on her for me?"

Mal nodded again, staying there while Jayne walked off. Time was the man would've never asked for something like that in regards to Adalyn. Amazing how far the two of them had come. He could distinctly remember being on the end of Jayne's fist more'n once on account of Adalyn being the topic of the fight. At least now there was some trust. He didn't know how it had come around on Jayne's part, but he was sure it involved Addy's stern glare. Jayne acted more…civil around her. Didn't mean he wasn't still crude and impolite at times, but at least he tended to think on others more than himself when she was around. That was something Mal would've never bet on to happen to the mercenary.

Simon walked down the stairs from the kitchen and Mal looked at him. He was a little mussed, some bruises and stitches from the wear and tear of battle, but he'd made it. Hopefully he'd had the sense to thank Adalyn for her time.

"Captain. How is she?"

"Bath. Jayne says."

He nodded, "We're leaving soon, I assume?"

"Take the next day to transfer cargo from Monty. Having a funeral and all, doubt many are eager to stick around."

"I would imagine."

"Tell Kaylee you got to hold the gun?"

He almost smiled, "No, actually. Haven't really talked about it all yet. I'm not quite sure how to explain it."

"Looked to me like she took you in."

"She did. I…I never realized just how much she knew. About war. About staying alive. I just…she was always just an assassin. Now…"

"She's a soldier."

"Yeah."

"Well, glad to have you back in one piece, any rate. Glad to have you both back."

He started to walk off. He would check back in on Addy later in the day. The mass funeral had taken most the night and only just early morning did they finish. By tomorrow they would be done transferring goods and they'd be able to get off the rock.

"Captain…"

He turned to look at the Doc, "Yeah?"

He paused, hesitated, "Nothing."

Shrugging, he walked off, up the stairs in hopes of cutting shares of the cashy.

* * *

Simon stayed close to her, wanting to savor every moment. It could all end, at any time, without warning and without the chance to say goodbye. Things could fall apart and couldn't always be righted. Relationships would wither and die without being loved and honed. Secrets could destroy everything and if it was one thing Simon didn't want to do, it was destroy everything.

"What'cha thinking about?"

He looked her in the eyes. Those beautiful, hazel eyes. He tenderly diverted a chestnut truss of hair away from her face.

"A lot," he admitted.

"You okay?"

"I don't know. I thought…things have been so…sure…up until now and it feels like everything's starting to fall apart. It feels like nothing's going to be right."

"Isn't that the way its s'posed to feel after a funeral?"

He nodded, "I guess. But I think it's more than that."

"You're worried 'bout Adalyn, huh?" she smiled with total and complete understanding.

"I've just never seen her so demoralized. Even after what she's gone through, there was always something. Indignation or resolve or something. She's never seemed so…"

"Empty."

He stared at her for another moment. It hadn't been often they talked about Adalyn. Mostly because Simon had some solidified paranoia that she would find out and have his head. He'd been concerned about her times before when things looked grim but this was something he'd yet to have experienced. He wasn't worried about her as her doctor, but as a friend. He knew more than the rest of the crew save for his sister. He knew what was going through her mind. Knew the guilt and the desire to run, to leave the family she'd created aboard the ship to start one alone, adrift and without any of them. The idea of her raising a child alone and no one ever being any the wiser, never being contacted again, made his blood run cold. She could just disappear and they would never know, never truly know, what had happened.

"Kaylee…do you want to have a family?"

She stared softly back at him, "A family? You mean, like, children?"

"I mean children. Do you want that? Do you want more than just us?"

She gave an honest chuckle, "Ain't saying it's never crossed my mind. Just don't wanna rush things, is all. Heck, we're not even married yet."

He pushed back the lump in his throat, "Do you want to be? Married?"

Her eyes went a little wide and he was sure it was an anxious desire to say yes coupled with a trembling fear of scaring him straight out of the bed they were in. He reached down into his deep pocket and pulled out the small, petite band.

"I got it before the explosions went off. I wanted to wait a while, but there's no guarantee that a while will happen."

"Simon, I don't…"

"Kaylee, will you marry me?"

She looked between the ring and him a few times before the corners of her lips came upwards to reveal that ever-cheerful smile, "Shiny."

He slipped the band around her finger before taking her hand in his. He kissed it, kissed the back of her knuckles, the back of her palm, before letting go.

"I love you. And I don't want you to ever think otherwise."

Her lips met his and he was rewarded with the deep, amorous kiss he'd come to know as the one filled with promise, with unconditional and unparalleled love. It was his because he could tell her things. He could believe in her enough to trust her. He didn't ever want her leaving for something so simple as a lost conversation. That wasn't what she deserved. She deserved to know what he wanted, his dreams and his fears. She deserved to be his better half.

He kissed her, idly thinking that if it was this easy for them, it should be this easy for Jayne and Adalyn.

* * *

Adalyn stood her in her room, looking at everything she had. It wasn't terribly much. They would be docked for another thirty hours, give or take. Plenty of time to speak with Monty about what she needed. There was no way she could ask Mal to drop her off. He wouldn't. But Monty ran Boros' underground unit. It was a convenient and accessible way for her to get off _Serenity_. Mal would argue, as would most the others, but she could deal with it. Being adamant was something she was good at.

The hard-handed and careful knock on her door made her regret this. Made her wish for all the worlds spinning that she could get up the courage to tell him straight out what was going on. But he'd never once really said the words she needed. That little bit of reassurance that he truly, deeply, wanted her around. Then again, she couldn't ever remember saying them, either.

"Come in."

The door slid open and he walked in. She didn't turn to face him. It wouldn't make much difference now. His hands reached her shoulders, bare, without gloves, and it almost made her wish she'd been killed with Tian.

"Came t'check on you. Weren't at dinner."

"Who was?"

The hesitation told her the answer before he said it, "No one, really. Just thought you'd be needing to talk."

She shook her head, "I'm leaving."

His hands left her shoulders and he walked around to face her. His eyes were confused, feral in their bewilderment, "_Shen me_?"

"I'm leaving. Going with Monty to Boros."

"What happened to that kid weren't your fault. Ain't got a need to be running away."

"I'm not running. It's a good cause. About time I do something with what I know."

"So you's just gonna go off to war and not tell me."

"I just told you."

His brow furrowed, "War will happen without you. No need to go. Monty knows what he's doing."

She smiled in spite of herself, "I've been missing something here, Jayne. Couldn't put my finger on it until these last few days. They made me a weapon. Made me want to be a weapon. And I need—"

"_Go se_. You ain't nothing like that!"

"And I need to do this. If I'm going to fight, it might as well be against the people that did this to me. The people who did this to River. Please, understand. My brothers died for this cause. The least I can do is live for it."

He stared at her, "Then I'll tag along."

She shook her head, scared that he'd be willing to drop Mal and _Serenity_ that quick for her, "No. This crew needs you. You were crew long before I got here; you'll be crew long after I leave. I need you to stay. I need to do this alone. I don't want you seeing me like that."

He touched her cheek, gentle with the back of his fingers, "Couldn't help but want you anyways you were. Don't like this idea."

"I know. But I need to go."

He sighed, looking at her, "You gonna tell the others?"

She nodded, "Yeah. But not now. Now I just want you to hold me."

She swore he was swallowing back tears before he embraced her. They laid on the bed, front to front, and he held her. Just held her. Didn't try anything. Didn't want more or at least he didn't let on that he did. He just held her and kept her snug to himself.

* * *

Breakfast was warm; better than what they'd been eating while Adalyn was gone, for sure. Warm and wholesome with real food and not just protein. And his crew was back together. Everyone. They were all here because they were meant to be. And he couldn't help but smile when River poked Jayne's food, eliciting a gentle slap on the hand which in turn got Simon's disapproval and Kaylee's funny laugh and even made Zoe smile.

Adalyn brought over the last plate. Eggs. Real eggs and nothing better than. Warm and runny, just like his momma'd use to make on the ranch. He dug in after River and Kaylee, leaving what rest there was for the others. Jayne wasn't eating much and he supposed it was from Adalyn still being down. Man was company for misery. Especially Adalyn's misery.

Adalyn sat next to Jayne and looked at his meager plate. Likely she wasn't going to eat, but that didn't mean she wanted him to go without.

He nodded and took an extra biscuit. Mal waited to see the smile, or some approval, but Adalyn only seemed to sink deeper. He poked his eggs around, smashing the yolk so he could soak it up with the sausage.

"I'm leaving."

He damn near dropped is bite off his fork when he stared at Adalyn. The table went silent and they all looked at her.

"_Shuh mu_?" Kaylee asked.

She looked right at him, blank, "I'm leaving. I'm going with Monty. To Boros."

"He's leaving tonight," he said.

"I know. That's why I told everyone at breakfast."

Jayne was quietly looking at his food. So was Simon. Damn those two if they hadn't already known. Mal inhaled deep, trying not to overreact. But the thought of Adalyn leaving…

"You have any idea what you're getting into?"

"I do. I can help."

"This ain't a war, Addy. You get caught, you'll—"

"Captain, this isn't a discussion. I've already made arrangements. I'm leaving tonight."

She left the table and walked from the kitchen, leaving them all there. Mal looked at River and Kaylee and Zoe. River seemed just as upset as Kaylee, and that was cause for concern. Like she did everything, Zoe took it in stride and folded her hands, looking to nothing and keeping her quiet until later. Simon and Jayne were still avoiding eye contact.

"You two known about this?"

Jayne stayed staring at his plate, "Only jus' found out last night."

Kaylee was searching Simon's face, same as Mal was, and he wasn't quite sure anymore what that boy knew.

"Simon?"

"She made a mention of it. I didn't think she was serious."

"And neither one o'you saw fit to tell me?"

River looked at him, "I told you."

He stared at her, "What?"

"Mockingbird needs to fly. That's all the mockingbird wants. Never wanted to do harm. Never liked the cage."

Mal's heart broke.

"You have to let it fly, Captain. Otherwise it won't sing. Won't ever sing."

Jayne stood from the table, leaving his plate, food and chopsticks at his seat, "Heard her sing," he muttered.

* * *

Simon looked up to see Adalyn standing there. But he didn't jump. He was grateful for that. She looked cleaner, if not happier. He tried to smile, but it came off uneasily. She looked around the infirmary, not really giving him consideration.

"You know, I think I still hate this room."

"I can imagine."

She slowly closed the door and leaned against it, "So, second trimester. What should I be on the lookout for?"

He sighed, "I didn't study this field, you know."

"I know."

"I would imagine you'll get bigger, of course. Backaches, headaches, cravings. You should start to feel the baby move before too long. Being able to determine the sex…within two months of now. I'd feel better if I knew what doctor you would be seeing."

She shrugged, "I don't even know that yet."

He nodded, "Right. Given your medical history, I would make sure you're not given relaxants during labor. Water births tend to go especially well for first-time moms."

"Anything I should be taking?"

"I can pack up some things. Vitamins, the essentials for a healthy pregnancy, if you'd like."

"I would. Be a good going-away gift."

"There's a good bulletin, written by Edouward Genaro. I know the pediatrics department always had it on file for their students and residents. Might want to look it up."

"I'll do that."

"I really can't convince you to stay, can I?"

"No. But I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yeah. You are. Thank you."

"Only right I take advantage of your brain. I'll wave you if anything comes up."

"I would appreciate it."

"Oh, and congrats to you and Kaylee."

"How…"

"River told me. Congrats."

"Thank you."

She nodded and opened the door. He watched her for a moment, "You know, what happened to Tian wasn't your fault."

She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him, "Thanks."

She walked on and he was sure she didn't believe him, but at least she'd listened to him. It made perfect sense, of course, that she would take him seriously the day she was leaving. He wasn't sure why that made him smile, but it did.

* * *

The small duffle bag didn't carry everything. He knew that. Also knew it was some hope that it meant she'd be back to get the rest of it. The cargo bay was letting fresh, cold air into the ship and Mal hated it. He wanted to feel warm. He wanted to be safe and secure in his ship and the looming bad weather did nothing to fulfill that need. Adalyn deciding to leave wasn't making it any easier.

She had the duffle slung over her shoulder, the PSR on her back and her guns at her thighs. There was nothing much more to it than that. The trunk she'd brought aboard on day one were still in her room, mostly still full. The other ship just didn't have the room for it. And she'd swore up and down it'd be safer with him and the crew.

Monty's boys and girls were walking back and forth, shipping and trading whatever the two ships could swap. Mal watched with some painful, annoyed expression on his face. A young man tried to come to Adalyn's side, take her bag for her, and she declined with the steely look he'd come to expect.

They'd just found her. He didn't want to let her go.

Monty walked up to him.

"Cheer up, boy. You look like you're losing your right hand."

"Not my right, but a hand nonetheless."

Monty nodded, his joviality quickly dampened because he knew just what exactly Mal meant. He shrugged, looking over to see Adalyn, too, "She'll be taken care of. I won't let one of your'n die."

"She's a handful. Mos' like she'll be scaring the shit from your crew."

"Ah, they can handle it. Truth is, she's already got herself a reputation. Might put some o'my crew at ease seeing her come aboard."

"Would imagine so."

"Her brothers were good boys. Can't see any reason not to take her along. 'Specially if she's trained like the rumors say."

"And then some, saw it with your own eyes," Mal confirmed sadly.

Monty slapped him on the back easily, "Well, come on down and say goodbye. We're 'bout done with the transfers."

He nodded absently, watching Adalyn already talking with tired smiles to River. He clambered down the stairs to see the others there, too, all of them waiting for their chance to say goodbye. She'd only been on the ship nine months. Mal thought it felt longer. And yet too short. Too, too short.

She hugged River, shifting her bag when it slid down. Simon was right next to his sister, Kaylee after him. The young doc offered his hand and Adalyn took it with a soft smile. It was more than she'd given the doc on good days before. He offered a small, black bag.

"Here. You'll need it. What with becoming a terrorist, and all."

She nodded, "Thanks."

Kaylee bit back tears to hug her and Adalyn seemed more like she was about to cry. But she just held Kaylee for another moment, being quietly detached. With Jayne, she hugged, kissed him once before hugging him again. They stood apart for a moment. He gave her a small gun and she smiled.

"Her name's Shirley."

Adalyn took it gently, lifting the safety snap off her right hip holster. She pulled out the gun stored there and put Shirley in.

"She'll do you right, you keep her oiled."

Adalyn nodded, handing over the old-schooled six-shooter that Jayne had no doubt been eyeing about as much as the PSR she currently had strapped to her back. He beamed.

"She'll do you right if you can afford the ammo."

He nodded.

Zoe and her exchanged a handshake and soft smiles. Adalyn sighed, "You'll keep them all outta trouble for me?"

She nodded, "You can count on it."

"I will."

"You do the same for Monty. He can be a bear."

"Oh, I'll keep him in line."

Mal turned slightly to face her when she looked to him, breaking from Zoe's hand. She only smiled like nothing had ever happened. Like he wasn't anyone but the captain of _Serenity_.

"I've got something for you. Kinda for everyone."

She pulled a small drawstring pouch from her duffle and handed it over. It was light and didn't rattle. He started pulling at the strings and she stopped him.

"After. After I'm gone, you open it. Share it with them as you see fit."

He nodded, "I'll do that."

"It's been an honor serving under you, Captain."

He tried not to be hurt by the show of respect, knowing deep down that all he wanted was for her to hug him, call him by his name and be the woman and not the assassin, "You'll be here again. You still got your junk cluttering up my bunks."

"Then I guess I'll look forward to it."

"S'pose so."

"Until then."

He nodded, his throat too tight to really utter anything. She stared at him, then Jayne, for a moment longer before turning with her bags and leaving. She walked down the cargo ramp and didn't look back when it started closing. He wished she would. Just one stray glance, one pause, to show that this place had been more than just a ship. Something to make him feel less lost.

He stayed until the door had closed completely, not noticing that the others had gone off to get his boat off the ground. He waited until there was no crack of cold air, no bit of muddy and drizzled ground. Waited 'til he was sure she wasn't looking back.

* * *

The pouch was too light to really be much. He wondered if she was just pulling their strings with it. Their first dinner without her had been tough. Tougher still because she'd made a few meals for them before she'd gone. They had to reheat it, hope they didn't ruin it, and feel utterly ashamed at tasting her delicacies when she wasn't there to be complimented. The warm kitchen seemed cold. They all stayed quiet. Even Jayne, for his gleefulness about the new gun, was silently shoveling food into his mouth.

Mal unhooked the pouch from his belt and held it on the table. They all looked at it. Kaylee almost smiled.

"You ain't opened it yet? Been near ten hours."

He nodded, all too aware of how long it had been since she'd walked off his ship, "Thought y'all should see it with me."

He untied the single knot that held the strings tight and pulled gently, opening the thin leather. His eyes went a little wider and he shook his head in disbelief. He let the sides of the pouch fall completely down for the others to see what it contained in it. There was a little gasp from Kaylee. Mal stared a moment longer, unsure if he really wanted to touch the contents.

The thick stack of bills stood nearly three inches high and from just the top bill, he could see they weren't no small denominations. There was a string wrapped 'round the bundle and a note tucked into it. He put the cashy down and plucked the note from the confinement of the string.

He cleared his throat, "I kept this in case of an emergency. I never did tell the guys how I could afford all the fancy food, but they can know now. I didn't choose this life but I couldn't imagine wanting to go back to my old one. Most of my inheritance sits for me, but this is for you. For the ship. I'll let you deal it out as you see fit. After all, you're captain. It should be enough to make things a little easier. Put it to good use. And, P.S., don't feel guilty about taking it. _Tzoo-foo ne_."

He kept the note in front of his face a moment longer, hoping that it hid his strained features. He swallowed bitterly, putting it down to see that Zoe had already counted the bills. He didn't look at her.

"How much?"

It took her a moment to reply, "Seventy-thousand, sir."

He smiled, knowing exactly what Adalyn wanted him to do with it. The others were still gaping, the number Zoe rattled off no small number and more than any of them had seen in their lives…with the exception of River or Simon.

"Well, dish it out. Think it's only fair. Ten thousand a piece. Ten for the ship."

"You knew she had this money?" Simon asked.

"Did."

They all stared at him. Kaylee shook her head, "Don't make no sense. Why would she be living with us, that kind of money?"

"She wanted to."

They all stared at him. Except Jayne, who was staring at his empty plate.


	36. Lost Parts of Serenity

He loved the diversity on his ship. More importantly, the chemistry there was because of that diversity. His girls were his girls. They'd all been raised in a certain way, a way that made them all the more adorable, or respectable, or admirable, to him. He would never admit to it, of course, but the women of _Serenity_ were the heart of it, keeping him, Jayne and the doc sane and in line more often than not.

There was Zoe. His Zoe. She'd never really been his to keep, but maybe she was his to protect. But even that didn't happen often. She was the same soldier he'd met a decade ago. Only maybe now a little harder, a little colder. Like as if Wash's death had torn away that soft side she'd found. He would never say if Wash's death had made her more the woman he knew, because he wasn't rightly sure. The Zoe he'd known in the war had been cold and calculating. A formidable woman, but one who could smile when some morose humor popped up. Now, there wasn't even that. Now she just stood, silent and vigilant, over him and his crew. Her husband had died, and she'd died along with him. Mal knew he could never get her back to smiles and laughter, and he would never try. He would never ask if she needed to talk, because she would if she wanted to. They'd talked about it once or twice, and of those two times, he'd only seen one tear. But she didn't blame him. He knew that. That didn't mean he didn't blame himself. More than any of the others on his ship, she was his rock. He could count on her, rely on her, and know that she would get the job done no matter what it required. Zoe was the rock of _Serenity_. When all else failed, he could look to her and know she would be the best one to make a decision.

There was Kaylee. Little Kaylee, the young lady he'd watched blossom into a lovely woman. Not more than a kid when she'd come on his boat, and about as gentle and naïve if he forgot how exactly he first met her. She was still the sweet girl he'd met under those embarrassing circumstances. Always the smiling face and the happy gait that made him realize there were still good and honest people in this verse. She had found her role in life and it involved keeping everyone perpetually happy and the engine turning smooth. She was so open to it all. Raised as a shop hand, she'd done more for this ship than he could've. Painted flowers to make the hearth a home, little lights that twinkled in the front corridor. Some holidays, those he didn't keep track of, she'd get everything just so and make the ship a happy, cheerful and colorful place. She'd hidden fake eggs once, and that had been amusing. How she'd gotten them all hid, he'd never know. But he remembered them popping up for a few months after, the ones that hadn't been found. He loved her for another reason completely. She was the daughter he'd never had. She adored him although he was sure she shouldn't. And no matter what mess he got himself into, she always had a smile when he came through it. Kaylee was the heart of his ship, keeping everyone alive and whole.

There was Inara. The respectable businesswoman he'd found himself hopelessly entangled with. He hated the power she had over him. How she knew what would make him back down and what would bolster him up. She was the elite, the vision of indulgence he'd fought in the war. As much as he hated her profession, he loved her. Maybe not loved, but wanted. He could never tell her, or expect anything, because he knew he would drag her down. A dignified Companion wouldn't be a girlfriend, or a wife, or a lover, because they were brought up to be only that. But she was the one woman he knew he could look to for a battle of wits. Even if something went smooth, they'd find some way to antagonize each other and he didn't really know why it made him feel so accomplished to do so. She was a voice of compassion, the woman who held the happiness of others above her own. The woman who could make a man melt with only a glance, and make him do what no one else could. He would give into mercy and forgiveness if only because she showed him they still existed. Always so close but so out of reach. And he needed it that way. He would never believe in happy endings, but he knew that if the story didn't end, who was he to say how it should? A compassionate woman, she was. She was _Serenity_'s soul. The woman who would offer a hand to anyone who needed it if only because it was the right thing to do.

There was River. A little crazy in the brain pan, but a genius nonetheless. He found he felt comfortable with her at the helm with him. There was something about her wackiness that put most people off. But, more especially now that the wackiness had subsided, he didn't mind. She was honest. A reader, and a damn good one at that, but nothing insurmountable. She would fly this ship, be his pilot, and make him grateful for the gentleness she exuded. He knew what she could do, how she could fight, and yet he didn't really care. She was a little sister to more than just Simon on this ship. She was innocent and broken, the reason he kept fighting against the Alliance because they crossed a line when they hurt the younger Tam. There were never any epic battles (well, except that one time on Miranda) and there were never any waged wars, but he would keep flying because every day he did was a slap in the face of the Alliance. Every day River was able to smile and be the young lady she wanted to be, the Alliance failed. And that was enough for him. She was a part of his crew now. She had her place as the pilot, as a criminal mastermind much to the dismay of her brother. He could keep her safe from harm and just doing that gave him a purpose. She was the ship's mind. Always thinking and always keeping her head above the din to make sure they all got home safe and sound.

There was Adalyn. The newest addition to his crew. She was the oddity. She was the chameleon. Raised like Inara, a genius like River, hopeful like Kaylee and a soldier like Zoe. Her and River were close to sisters, the hell they'd gone through together at the Academy. The death of her own kin under his command had driven her to a jaded way. But she still smiled, still hoped and wished for something better. Having been taken from the jewels and niceties of her society, now she lived in this world. And she did it without hesitation. She cooked and he couldn't remember a time since leaving home when he'd eaten so good on such a regular basis. But there was something about her that he would never understand and never wanted to. She was a weapon. More so than River. She was a soldier and a more dangerous one than Zoe. She could compete with Inara when it came to making him sweaty and compliant. And sometimes she believed in him so much he wondered if she and Kaylee were having a contest. She drifted from one role on the ship to the next, being whatever the crew, or he, needed her to be. That was the part of her that he always recognized. The part of her that had been trained to be a telekinetic assassin. As dangerous as she was, he still wanted her on his ship. He trusted her with his life the same as he would Zoe. He looked to her for a cheerful word, same as he would Kaylee. Her wits were comparable to Inara's and he loved the debates they had. And, above it all, she and River were the secret weapons in his arsenal. Adalyn wasn't any one part of the ship. She was a part of all of them.


	37. Lost Innocence

**A/N: Takes place after Adalyn was tortured.**

* * *

It wasn't really a surprise that Adalyn wasn't sharing in the conversation. Her stony face was set forward, no warmth in her eyes when Kaylee tried to get her involved in the shopping spree. No reaction when Jayne got in an argument with the local arms dealer. She was silent, her mind about as broken as her body still was.

Mal watched her keep her back to the wall when they were inside the shop. One hand was constantly on her sidearm. Her wrists, the small bit he could see for the thick leather wraps around them, were still a sickly white-pink flesh against the normal beauty of her ivory skin. The scars would never go away, that was what the Doc had said. Being hung by her wrists for that long had done its damage. In more ways that one. When Jayne thumped his fist on the glass display case at a joke, she flinched.

Zoe elbowed him and without saying a word, he knew what she was telling him to do. He nodded before walking over to Adalyn. The assassin's eyes ignored him and he had to just hope she was listening.

"Addy, why don't we go back to the ship?"

She looked out of the store, watching the people go by. He followed her gaze, didn't see anything worth attention, and turned to look back at her.

"Addy?"

She nodded, "Yeah."

He nodded with her, grateful for some response. He tried to gather her with an arm around her shoulders, but even that made her tense. She'd been fine for the last week. But he supposed going out into a heavily populated area was different than being safe and tucked away on _Serenity_.

He didn't bother telling Jayne that they were leaving. The merc would figure it out soon enough and Zoe would keep him in line about his girl being escorted by the captain. He awkwardly took his hand off her shoulder, noticing that without it she still kept herself closer than normal to him.

"Did you need anything?"

She shook her head, "Haven't been hungry lately."

"Wasn't meaning just food. Y'ain't hardly left your room save for cooking us meals. Anything you want for passing the time?"

"Not really."

He accepted that and felt the rumbling pit in his gut tell him that she wasn't going to get any more conversational than this idle chatter. It was more than she'd taken part in all morning. Amongst the crowded stalls of Boros, he'd hoped she feel at home. He'd hoped she get back into her groove.

"Why not stop by and see Daryl while we're here?"

"I don't want him to see me like this."

"Understandable. But he might be able to help. Friends are always the best remedy."

"I was tortured. It's not the same as a heartbreak."

"I do remember that. Just saying, man like him is bound to help put you at ease."

"He would pity me. And I can't stand more of it."

"Have you talked to the Doc?"

She stopped in her stride and glared at him. He put his hands up and watched her walk on without saying a thing.

"It was just a suggestion," he mumbled under his breath.

He caught up to her and kept his mouth shut while she weaved in and out of traffic. Annoyed as she was at the suggestion of needing Simon's help, at least the reaction was more aligned with who she'd been before Roland got a hold of her.

"That boy's done more for me than I deserve," she said quietly.

If Mal hadn't been on edge waiting for her to speak, he wouldn't have heard it at all, "And what makes you come t'that conclusion?"

"I tried to kill him."

"You weren't exactly in your right mind. Besides, Doc's been strong-held by a patient before. Ain't nothing too new for him by now."

She froze, her head half-cocked and her eyes wide. Mal braced himself, waiting for something to snap. He suddenly wished he'd brought something to tranquilize her with, things got out of hand.

She whirled around, searching for something, scanning the thick crowds.

"Addy?"

"He's here."

"Who?"

"Him…"

Mal's brow furrowed, "Daryl?"

She shook her head, moving deliberately and determinedly away through the crowd, "Someone else."

Mal had trouble following her, wishing he had some clue as to why she was on the hunt, "You gotta give me more to go on."

He ran straight into her, she'd stopped so short. Her eyes were still fixed on something in the distance. Mal caught himself from falling forward. She didn't seem to care one bit. Her attention was wholly on another person.

"Addy…"

"That's him," she said, hushed.

Mal followed her gaze to see nothing but an assortment of people. Not a one stood out, "I'm not seeing him."

"That's the one that tortured us."

Mal's blood ran cold. _Us_. Not just her, _us_, like as in her and River. Was this someone from the Academy? Someone she recognized as a tormentor?

He took her arm, trying to pull her but she remained rooted to the spot, "C'mon. Let's go."

She ignored him, "Go back to the ship. Make sure River's okay."

"You're coming with me."

"No. I'm following him."

"No. You're not. Now get on with the moving in this direction," he yanked again on her arm but she wouldn't budge.

"Addy, I don't feel like repeating myself."

She turned to face him, "Fine."

He started to smile when her arm lashed out, her open hand catching his throat. He gagged, his hands going reflexively to his throat. He doubled over, coughing silently. The moment he fathomed what she had done, he looked up only to see her gone, lost in a sea of folk. He tried to call out her name but found his voice absent.

She was gone.

* * *

Simon put away the hypo, sighing and looking to his little sister. Mal followed his gaze, massaging the sore column of neck.

"It'll go away in an hour or so. No real damage," Simon said knowingly.

"Don't like the idea of her out there on her own," Mal admitted, his voice nothing more than a whisper.

"Head clear. No fog. No clouds. Landing and approach unhindered," River spoke quietly.

"Captain, I doubt Adalyn would be able to do much in the state she's in."

Mal shook his head, "No. More worried because of it. Self-control ain't something she's had a good deal of recently," he coughed.

"Trust her," River said.

They both looked at her. Mal stood, one hand still to his hoarse throat, "Is she planning to hurt him, albatross?"

"No. Untouchable."

Nodding with some small reassurance, Mal walked away. River watched him go. Simon came up next to her, the silent question loud in her mind.

"I don't want him dead, Simon," she said preemptively.

Simon could only watch her walk off. He leaned against the threshold of the infirmary heavily only to hear the faintest of sobs as she walked away. He left the comfort of his domain and followed the sniffles. River was sitting, curled up in a corner by the weight bench.

"River?"

"I don't want him dead," she whimpered.

He sat down next to her, searching for hidden eyes, "_Mei mei_."

"Dr. Mathias always said I was his favorite."

"You're not going back there, River. Not ever. I won't let it happen. Adalyn won't let it happen. None of us will. You know that."

She looked at him, eyes haunted and deep, "I go there every night. Dreams steal away sunshine."

He reached across and wrapped her in his arms, feeling her sob into his shoulder.

"Can't ever escape, Simon. We're trapped there."

He felt a tear on his own cheek.

* * *

The body was crumpled, soaking in blood that had been drained slowly and painfully. Mal didn't have to bother checking. He knew there was a little life left. Just enough cushion to keep the man from being dead. And when he realized he knew, he also realized he didn't want to. Realized that Adalyn had crossed a line.

She was standing there, watching Mal when he turned to face her. Simon ran in, halting ungracefully when he caught sight of the man. He looked between Adalyn and Mal, not bothering to check for a pulse when he could see the man writhing in pain.

"Adalyn, what did you do?"

"Beat him."

"Why? He was tied up. Wasn't 'bout to hurt you."

"Doesn't matter. He could still hurt us. Still stop us."

"You tortured him," Mal said angrily.

She looked at the man, not at Mal, "Small price, reward's worth it."

Simon stared at her, "Where's River?"

Adalyn reached for a rag nonchalantly, cleaning blood off her hands, "In her room."

"You were going to murder him," Simon said with panic lacing his voice.

"He would do the same, given the chance. Only I wouldn't've been the target."

"River knew, didn't she? Told us all's good and well knowing full you were planning to do this!" Mal rose his voice, unsure if he was yelling more at Adalyn or at an absent River.

"No. River wouldn't do that!" Simon yelled back.

Adalyn stayed calm, cleaning her bloody hands the best she could without water. She was switching her gaze between her own dirty hands and the soaked body. Mal glared at Simon.

"Like hell she wouldn't. Man what done this to her? You think your lil' sister wouldn't cover if she knew things would be taken care of?"

Simon's face was feral, backed between loyalty to his sister and his own self-truths. Mal watched him, knowing he'd crossed a line but also knowing that it had been warranted. The man groaned and his head lolled to the other side. But Adalyn stayed collected.

"This isn't Dr. Mathias," she said.

Simon looked at the barely recognizable man, "This isn't the one who did everything?"

"Nope."

"Why'd you do this, then?" Mal asked.

"This man gave Mathias his orders. Not much better a man, you ask me."

"You don't pass judgment. You're not—"

He found himself on his rear with Simon next to him, the door to the room closed and locked, and his pistol aimed at his own forehead. Never mind the fact that they were both sitting in blood. The barrel of his gun was turned on him and Adalyn had the trigger set beneath her finger.

"You hypocrite," she hissed.

"You gonna torture me now?" he shot back.

She scoffed, "You don't see it. Never will. Never have. You're a hypocrite. It's not that I did this that bothers you; you've seen worse, done worse. It's how I did it. Up close. Touching, breaking. You think the distance of a gun makes you noble. Makes you better than me."

She cocked the hammer.

"You're wrong. The gun itself isn't a weapon. Just an extension of the weapon that holds it. The person's dangerous. You shoot someone, you might as well wound them with your bare hands. There's no difference. No amount of distance that changes murder. The only difference between you shooting people and me tearing them apart, is that I know they're guilty when I kill them. You kill people who get in your way. I kill people who deserve it. And my violation?"

She disarmed and brought the gun down hard on the delicate bones of the man's throat. Mal winced when the crack and snap echoed through the room. The body went limp. Air denied already battered lungs. Painful sensations that were too much for an already pained existence.

"Well, it just saves River from becoming a killer, don't you think?"

She juggled the gun. She handed it back to him the proper way, barrel facing her own gut. Mal took it. He stood and looked down at the man she'd killed, right in front of him, and suddenly felt grateful she'd ended it like that. Swift. An easy end compared to what had been done.

She shook her head, "There's no gain in meaningless death. I need to check on River. Make sure she's okay."

Mal nodded slowly. He couldn't say if he was disgusted or angry or relieved, but at the moment it didn't matter. Adalyn had done what she'd done. There were no two ways about that. He could only hope meaningless death had some purpose.

* * *

The room was dark. Adalyn climbed down carefully, giving her eyes time to adjust. She still felt dirty. Still felt like she was in that room with a dead man begging her to finish it off. The young woman was lying on the bed in a ball. She stayed distant, letting River come to her senses on her own. She didn't flow like she usually did if for no other reason than because she wasn't sure if she was afraid of River or if River was afraid of her.

"You've been dead for so long."

She saw the smile on the younger woman's face and she couldn't help but smile back, "I know, _xiao mei mei_. I know."

"I didn't want you to wake up that way."

"You didn't do it. I did."

"I asked you."

"Only because it needed to be done."

Her lip trembled and Adalyn moved to her side, sitting next to her on the bed. River wedged her eyes shut against tears.

"I missed you while you were gone."

Adalyn didn't like being considered gone. Walking, always around, and yet gone after that day. It had taken so long. Ironically enough the man she killed had been the one to make things right again. To set her brain back where it was supposed to be.

"Well I'm back now."

"Adalyn," River's voice was soft and gentle but Adalyn already had an idea of where the question would go; the tendrils of thought were already jumping over bridges, "What did he do to you?"

She closed her own eyes, "River, please. Please,don't?"

River sat up, "You got hurt because of me. Got lost, died, because of me. And I hate it. Hate that you died. Hate that you got lost. You were always the strong one because you had no one to protect. And then you did and it was my fault!"

Adalyn had opened her eyes to see River's face twist into sadness and she shhshed the younger woman while she rested her hands on the sides of her head. River let her weight fall forward and let Adalyn coddle her.

"Shh, River. It's okay."

"No! It's not…you're broken…I did it…you had to…and it wasn't ever enough!"

It was so hard to hear the broken sobs of her, hearing how incomplete the voice was when the brain was crystal clear. But hearing her brain let River see hers and River started sobbing violently to see what had happened. Adalyn could have stopped it, could have made sure River never knew what had happened in that room. But she didn't. Her own mind was too absorbed by the memories flooding her with pain.

For hours she had endured it. Wires taped to her bruised body, electrocuting her when she wouldn't answer. The painful peace of flatline and the unwelcome rip of reality when it all came crashing back on her. Synapses ruptured and burst with each hit. Retreating further back into herself with every new wound and pain. Roland had tried everything he'd known. The Academy had tried everything they'd known. And they'd known a lot.

"Pain and there's nothing saying stay alive and nothing saying die because you shut me out and there was no way back in because you died and were gone for so long and you killed to wake up you wanted to wake up and I couldn't help you because I was afraid to wake you up when you died because of me!"

River continued to sob against her and Adalyn couldn't say she wasn't crying, too. But she pulled back a bit and looked at River.

"But I'm alive now. And this will pass. I did what I had to to keep us safe. I did what I didn't want you to do."

She nodded, soothed to at least the point of not being uncontrollably sobbing, "Then you're not mad at me."

"Of course not. How could I be mad at you?"

There was almost a smile and Adalyn stood from the bed, holding out her hands, "Come on, silly. Let's make dinner."

An unexpected laugh at the ridiculously out-of-context statement was more than enough reward for Adalyn. Such a mundane thing to do when there was a dead man slumped in a bunk downstairs. But the body didn't matter. That man had died the moment he signed his career over to the Academy, to Roland. And he had been sorry. That was at least something.

River took her hands and let herself be pulled to her feet. Adalyn wiped off the trails of tears before wrapping an arm around her shoulder and leading her to the stairs.

* * *

Simon looked up and found Adalyn in his view. He dropped his encyclopedia and it clattered to the white tiles noisily. He stared at her for a moment. She looked tired, but awake at the same time.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

He nodded, leaning over to pick up the encyclopedia, "That's all right. I just…I'm sorry."

She shrugged, "You saw me kill a man. I'd be jumpy, too."

He didn't want to admit that. He didn't want to give her that power over him. He nodded nonetheless and put the folded media onto the counter, "Was there something you needed?" he asked, busying himself with organizing the emergency tray.

"When Roland tortured me, he had help."

Simon stopped organizing but kept his eyes to the tray.

"He shot me, beat me. But Qing helped him with more. I died, actually. Flatline. They brought me back. Kept going. Electrocution, toxins…anything he could think of from the good ole days. He said it was his chance to see it firsthand. Mathias had always done the fun work. In that place, we were guinea pigs. They tried everything. I died a dozen times over, and every time I wanted it to end right there. I wanted to be free of it."

Simon finally looked at her. She wasn't looking at him, just at nothing. She leaned against the doorway and her mind was obviously too into the story for him to matter much. Why she would tell him all this, after everything she'd spoken about him, he didn't know. But she looked like she had when things were going well. Like she could beat it all.

"And every time they brought me back, I came back willingly because I knew as long as they were having their jollies with me, they wouldn't touch River. They wouldn't cause her pain. She would be their playground, but she wouldn't be in pain when they tore through her brain. They gave her mercy because I let them torture me. As long as I played by their rules, they would leave her some small grace."

"Adalyn…"

"You asked me once to tell you what happened because you wanted to help her get better. I didn't tell you because I didn't think you could handle it. I still don't think you can, but I think you're ready to know at least something. I kill people. I am an assassin because they made me one. I can use my bare hands to choke the life from someone, drain it from them drop by drop. But River can't. She's a weapon, but she's not like me. If she had killed Qing, it would have destroyed her. She's guilty enough as it is. I killed that man because it was a necessary death. I let them torture me, both times, because it meant she would be safer. I killed him so she would remain sane.

"I have an incredibly talented brain, and she and I understand each other because we were designed to. And when those men tortured me, I blocked her out. She never was supposed to know my soul had been sold to protect her. Now she does. And now she feels guilty. She needs you to be there for her, no matter what."

He watched her and she lowered her gaze a little more, just enough to make him think that she had revealed all the secrets she was willing to. He took a step closer and realized she was looking at something. It was a datacard.

She offered it to him, "I've had this for a while. It's hard to watch, but I think it might help you."

He took it and nodded silently.

"Also, there's a new drug. One that Qing used on me when Roland was trying to get me to talk. Kynnodiallaxin. You might want to look into it."

"Thank you."

She looked at the datacard, "Don't thank me until you're sure you want to."


	38. A Lost Name

**A/N: A look at just how Adalyn got her nickname. AU ending.**

* * *

"Addy…"

No one had ever called her Addy. Then, Mal did and it fit so perfectly, so naturally, that she didn't question it. True, he'd first said it when trying to resuscitate her after she'd dropped beneath ice and cold water to drown…but maybe that was how it was supposed to come together. Maybe that desperation had been what made the name stick. Maybe it was some little reminder of just how much they meant to each other.

No one had questioned it.

No one had copied it.

That nickname was for Mal and Mal alone. Just as he had given her drunken permission, more a demand, that she never call him captain, hers was a silent permission granted only to him to breach familiarity.

It wasn't like he never called her Adalyn anymore, or that using her nickname was a casual thing. It held so much more. It was a promise. His promise to her that he wouldn't let her go without him. That she would always have him to fall back on. The security of knowing that she still had something to live for in this verse. It was his way of saying, in a single word, that he was ready to catch her whenever she needed to fall. That he would, at any given moment, charge into hell if she so much as made a fleeting mention of needing to go there.

More than anything, that nickname meant she trusted him. It meant that she forgave him. He'd come back from Serenity Valley when her two older kin hadn't. The fact that she allowed him, of all people, to call her a name so familiar and intimate, was a blessing he didn't know he was looking for.

For the first time since he'd said her nickname, his promise, her forgiveness, he wondered if he shouldn't have said it.

A woman should be able to hear her full name on her deathbed. Not some chopped version. Not something so short. The last thing she heard should've been more important. Not just a nickname.

He should've been able to take that ride into hell for her while she stayed behind, alive.

He should've been able to keep his promise while he watched her slip away.

He should've been able to accept her forgiveness while she died on that road.

He should've been able to keep a dry eye while she smiled at him, forming his name on her lips.

He'd brought her back with that name once.

He watched her fade away to it.


	39. A Lost Nine

Yesterday, his ship had boasted a crew of…him, Zoe, Kaylee, Simon, River and Jayne. Six. Now that Inara decided to drop in, that made seven. Seven. He wasn't one for believing in good fortune made through numbers, but he preferred seven over six.

It used to be nine. Nine of them, drifting out here alone together. Each lost. Each looking for something that they had no idea they needed. Nine had been a better number. Nine had been happier times. Nine folk from different walks of life, each working as the crew he'd come to think was synonymous with _Serenity_ herself. The ship was home because of those nine. Nine voices over dinner, bickering and joking and regaling. Nine bodies forced to freeze or sweat together. Nine minds working to keep three steps ahead of the new job. Nine people relying on one ship to keep them going, together.

A pilot.

A soldier.

A mechanic.

A doctor.

A genius.

A companion.

A preacher.

A mercenary.

A captain.

Yesterday, his ship only had seven.

Today it had nine. And for one, brief moment, he wished it were only eight. He didn't think he could handle nine again when it was a different set of cards. A different hand even with the same amount dealt out.

But then that little girl held out her arms, giggled, and called him a toddler's version of captain. Came out more along the lines of "campit", but he found himself smiling anyways.

Yesterday, the ship had a crew of seven.

Today it had a crew of eight and a family of nine.

He picked up the satchel that contained the child's toys and trinkets, threw it over his shoulder, and helped heft it into place. This ship could have nine again. A family again.

A sister he'd adopted.

A comrade he'd never leave behind.

A daughter he'd never hoped to have.

A soulmate he'd never admit to have.

A friend he'd never thought he'd call one.

A reminder he'd never forget.

A challenger he'd never turn his back on.

A child he'd never thought would be.

And he made nine.


	40. Lost Lives

There was no epitaph. No sentimental words. Just a name. Just…blank space. Nothing to encompass the life that was gone. Nothing about friends. Nothing about family. About what the woman who lay gone had done for this world. None of that. The only significant thing aside from the name was the rank. The position she'd held at the end.

Even that was a cold comfort.

Standing at the foot of the grave, the mourner could only smile at the irony. For twenty years after escaping, she'd fought, battled, argued and done anything but live a peaceful life. After the war, after the combat, after the disagreements, she had retired and that was when she'd been killed. One stray bullet was all it had taken. One stupid error. It wasn't even a bullet fired by a mean-spirited assailant. It was a mistake. A misfire.

Misfire. It didn't miss at all.

Maisi Santayana stared down at the headstone. A leaf, stray and golden, fell on the flowers she'd placed there only a moment ago. A small reminder of the autumn that was coming fast, unrelenting, from the willow tree that stood hovering nearby; shade and shelter for the three battered headstones that had only just been tended to.

Two had been there for so long, they'd almost just started to blend in with the soft grass. The marks of previous visits had faded away. The elements had softened the polished marble edges. The sun had faded the black ink that had been set deep into the engraved names, marking them for the ghosts they were. They'd been picked out not too long after the second war had been won. Her mother had decided they deserved more than a column in some war memorial. She decided they deserved to be home in name, if nothing else. And once a month for the last span of years, her mother had come to the graves and smiled, tracing the names of her lost brothers.

Looking over her shoulder, Maisi saw a man standing nearby. He would never come to the graves. He would never step foot on such a sheltered, hallowed place. She'd been told a tree house once stood in that willow tree. A mansion beyond that, long since burned down. But the feel was still there. Three children running through grassy hills, playing in the ponds and creeks and tree house. Long before the first war tore the family apart. Long before the universe had caused problems for them all.

Maisi smiled, kneeling down to trace the name on the newest headstone. The ink was still fresh, the edges sharp. It would be weathered over time. But for now, it was still polished and new. Fresh and insinuating. And maybe that was why the man standing watch would never come close. Never say his goodbyes. He'd outlived them all when rightfully, his life should've ended a dozen times over. But even in cruel karma, the universe had let him live. It had let him watch them die before him. On the battlefield. In the comfort of success. They'd all died and left him there to know that they shouldn't have.

He was still living. He was still forced to go on. His debt wasn't repaid. And no matter how Maisi looked at him as he stood there, all she could see was a gentle man. Not the soldier she'd heard stories about. Not the captain she'd been a niece to. Only the man who'd stood by all these years, being there whenever her mother and father couldn't. He'd been there. Every moment since she could remember, he'd been there.

Maybe that was why he couldn't let her visit the grave alone. He had to be here, too. She stood, turning her back to the three headstones. Walking towards her guardian, she looked over her shoulder to see them catch the gold of sunset's rays, names and dates and words echoing the lives they marked. She smiled.

**Here Marks The Graves Of  
****Markus Mitchell Santayana & Joseph Dean Santayana  
****Lost To The Lord In 2511 On The Battlefield  
****Brothers In Blood, Brothers In Arms  
****Those Who Fight For Peace Shall Have It In Death**

**Hope Adalyn Santayana  
President**


	41. A Lost Limb

It was smooth. Frosted, but smooth. Like a silver bit of ice shaped into an arm. He ran his eyes down the lines of it. He could see each piece, the gears and wires underneath contoured plates of durable alloys. The hinge of the elbow, the pivot point of the wrist…

It was a part of her. It looked so streamlined and in sync with her that he would've never known she had it if she'd had her long-sleeved shirt on. She'd kept it hidden. Kept it safely away from curious eyes. As it was, the metal fingers delicately grasped the gun, clinking against a material so similar to the one her left arm was now comprised of. The weapon was darker steel than the dove gray of her arm, but it still blended in. It reflected the light the same, shared the same deadly intent. It even looked, for all the shadows of the alley, like it was another part of her limb. It was all shattered as she clenched a titanium fist, shattering the offending gun that had been pulled on them a moment ago. The thwarted thief stared goggle-eyed, watching bits of the gun fall to the sand.

"Go home," she said tiredly.

The man looked at the demolished parts of his gun in the sand before showering them with the spray of running away so quickly.

Adalyn watched him go, turning her gleaming palm open and upside down to release the fragments that she'd still kept captive. Brushing her hands across each other to rid them of the debris, she turned to look at him.

He could only stare. It wasn't an impolite stare. Not obnoxious, but perhaps sad. She'd left with two arms and had come back with only one, a metal facsimile playing host to the nerves in her left shoulder.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

He met her eyes, "I just…"

"It's a prosthetic, Mal."

He scoffed, "Yeah, I got that."

She cocked an eyebrow at him, walking away from the deceased gun and back towards _Serenity_. He caught up with her, holstering his own gun now that the shock of seeing her metal limb had worn off enough to realize he still had it half-drawn from the attempted hold up.

"How? And when?"

"I can still fight," she said softly.

He exhaled sharply, remembering all to clearly how she'd stopped the burglar from being a threat. She'd frightened him enough to shoot and put her left hand over the muzzle. The bullet had clanged before falling the sand, spent and wasted. Her hand had suffered no damage and the gun had been dropped from the sheer shock.

"Addy…"

"It doesn't matter, Mal. It's what I've got and it lets me hold my daughter. That's all that matters. At the end of the day, I can hold her."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Because you'd all have given me the look you have now. Pity. And I don't want a drop of it."

"How'd you afford it?"

"Daryl. He paid for it. I used half of my inheritance to front the operation. Daryl paid for the limb itself."

"Awfully nice of him."

"He felt he owed me, I guess."

"Well, I always wondered if you were made of something more than us. River got one? Because the two o' you could be a match set," he smiled.

She punched him playfully. With her left fist. He winced and grabbed at his injured arm, mouth open and eyes watering. She only smiled and walked along. He rubbed the soon-to-be-purple area of his upper arm and caught up to her.

"So, it got any attachments?"

She stared at him in mock incredulity, "Like what?"

"Guns that shoot out or a knife that's spring loaded or—"

"It's my arm, Mal. Not a sheath."

"Don't see why it can't be both. Just saying."

She laughed and shook her head at him, "It's just an arm."

"Made of titanium. Don't forget that part."

She looked aside at him, "How'd you know that?"

"Recognized the _clang_. Heard a lot'a it on the battlefield. What else it mixed with?"

Se shrugged, "Titanium, steel, copper wiring, diamond ore, some other stuff I don't really know much about. My engineer's back on Boros. He looks after this thing like a child."

"Well, is a masterpiece. Ain't many floating around, you know."

"Because they cost two million square just to get one designed. Let alone the surgery."

"Good thing you're a rich outlaw, huh?"

"You're enjoying this too much."

"Ain't a bit, either. Just think it's the kinda thing you'd be telling us folk about. 'Hey everyone, got to liberate another town today, but I kinda lost my arm in the process'."

"Like that would ever be a healthy conversation."

"Shouldn't be surprised. You did hide a kid from us, too."

She rolled her eyes, "You're never letting it go, are you?"

He smiled, "Nope. Like having the moral high ground over you for a change."

She jabbed a finger into his sore arm, "Well, I just saved your life so how about you throw up the white flag."

"I had everything under control."

"No you didn't!"

"Did! You just wanted to show off that metal hunk-a-junk up your sleeve."

"I'll tell everyone he drew faster."

"I'll tell everyone you _crushed_ _a gun with your hand_!"

She stared at him with a knowing smile. He pouted.

"Fine, you win."


	42. Lost Pieces Do Not A Whole Make

Adalyn shook her head, her vision returning slowly. Blood was trailing from a cut in her face to blind her in one eye. And blinking only helped so much. She wiggled a bit, her hands tied securely behind her back.

"Adalyn?"

She realized she was back-to-back with someone. She looked over her shoulder to see the distinct chestnut waves of Kaylee's hair. She looked around, feeling dead weight on her. Looking down, she saw why.

She had an explosive strapped to her chest. The little lights, the wires…there were no telltale signs of when it might detonate, but just seeing it made her heart beat double time.

She had a daughter to get home to.

She sighed, "Been back on _Serenity_ one month and I'm strapped to a bomb."

"You too?"

"Is yours blinking?"

She could feel Kaylee nod. She sighed heavily, "Did you see who it was? I was unconscious."

"Three guys. The big one hit you over the head."

"I figured that part. They touch you?"

"Aside from roping me, no."

"Good. Means I don't have to kill them."

"You can get us out of this?"

Adalyn nodded, "Yeah. No sweat. Just breath deep."

"What?"

"We can loosen the ropes if we both inhale at the same time. It'll give us some stretch."

"Oh."

"Breath in."

She and Kaylee both pulled air deep into their lungs. She could feel the ropes cut into her flesh arm. Holding her breath for a long moment, Kaylee following her lead, she wiggled her shoulders, pushing the ropes up closer to her top and over the curve of her chest.

She exhaled. Kaylee gave a little cough. Wriggling a bit more, she could feel the slightest give of the ropes. With one pass over her chest, it was easier to move about. Now, just four or five more and a bomb, and the tight ropes would be over the widest part of her top half.

"Again," she instructed, watching her lights blink a little faster.

With Kaylee doing the same shrugging motion while holding bated breath, another pass of the rope moved up over her chest. Shrugging again, she saw a light stop blinking for a long moment before it resumed. She exhaled, unable to keep from coughing a bit herself.

"Can you move your arms yet?" she asked.

"A little."

"Are you tied at the wrists?"

"No. They just put 'em behind my back."

Adalyn smiled, "Yay. Makes life easier."

"My lights are blinking weird."

"Mine too. Come on, again."

Inhaling deeper, able to stretch the ropes further, Adalyn felt Kaylee's hands move against her own. Those bastards had the good sense to tie her by her wrists, giving her less maneuverability. Kaylee, on the other hand, was starting to pull her arms forward, shrugging the ropes higher. She felt a yank and looked down at her left arm.

Exhaling, she cursed. The rope had gotten caught on the hinge of her mechanical elbow. The smooth design, for all it looked like a real limb, was still a machine and had the outcroppings that went with it. Not for the first time since losing her real left arm did she curse about having a prosthetic metal one.

"What's wrong?" Kaylee asked.

"It got caught on my fake."

"But the rope's looser. Maybe…"

The tension on the rope slacked a bit and Adalyn could feel Kaylee's hand trying desperately to dislodge the rope that snagged on her metal limb. Reaching around her own back, Kaylee's hand was just barely brushing it, her fingertips agonizingly close to being fully against the offending rope.

She heard footsteps.

"Kaylee, shrug out. Don't worry about my end."

"What?"

"Do it. Just hurry. Shrug out the rest of the way."

"But we need to untie you."

"Now!"

The ropes cut hard into her front side while Kaylee pulled on them. She flattened her lungs and exhaled, trying to give the mechanic the most amount of room she could. The footsteps came closer, but were still down the hall a ways.

The ropes around her front went slack. The ropes around her wrists stayed taut.

She heard a mechanical whine and Kaylee bit down a whimper. Her own bomb started to warm up against her front. The rope strapped around her wrists was the rope holding the bomb to her front. Shrugging out of the others hadn't alleviated that inconvenience.

She felt Kaylee start pulling at her trapped wrists, trying to undo to rope there. She shook her head, "Dislocate my arm."

Kaylee's hands froze, "What?"

"There's a release on the shoulder blade. Unlatch it and the arm will detach."

"But…"

"Do it!" she hissed.

She grit her teeth and braced herself.

Kaylee unlocked the hinge and yanked and Adalyn felt blood on her lips from biting into them. Her living nerves disconnected from mechanical wires, they backfired and felt like knives into her shoulder.

But the rope went slack as the metal arm clattered to the ground. Her flesh wrist was free.

The men who'd attacked them stared.

Grabbing her detached metal arm and the attached rope and bomb, she threw. It yanked the whole length of rope, along with the bomb that had been on Kaylee's front, towards them.

Grabbing Kaylee with her one remaining arm, she ran.

The explosion sent them both to their fronts, the heat of it passing over their heads. Without a second arm to brace her, Adalyn landed hard and wrong. She felt her forehead thump into the concrete floor, her metal port of a left shoulder scrape against cold stone. She rolled onto her side, her head throbbing. Kaylee leaned over her, saying her name. It was only when she smiled that the mechanic let up.

Kaylee helped her up, leading them out the way they'd been dragged in.

* * *

Simon watched her. She was grimacing and had her hand covering the stump of her missing arm. Blood trailed down her face, blinding her in one eye. For the first time, he got a good look at her deformed shoulder. The tank top showed the attachment's base for what it was: complicated and brutish machinery. But from the bruises on her jaw, face and torso, he assumed her crunched face was from being beaten more than from a missing prosthetic.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

She shrugged, "A little."

"Do you want something for the pain?"

"No. Thanks."

He nodded, ripping packaging on sterile gauzes before wrapping her cuts, "Thank you. For protecting her."

Adalyn shrugged, "Getting blown up wasn't on my list of things to do today, so…"

Simon smiled, "I wish I could've seen the look on their faces when you dislocated your arm."

"Kinda worth it."

They both looked over to see Mal walk through the doorway, arms crossed over his chest with an exasperated smile on his face, "So, she gonna make it?"

"She'll live."

"Good to know."

Adalyn took her hand off her stump, "I hate to be a burden, but my engineer's in Boros. I won't be much good with only one arm."

"May take a while, seein as how we gotta go through heavy Alliance territory an all. But we'll get you there."

"Thanks."

"Meantime, rest up."

"I'll put a call to him. Let him know we're coming."

"How long will it take to get it replaced?" Simon asked.

Adalyn spared a look at the disassembled joint, "Not too long, I hope. I'm more worried about the tongue-lashing I'm going to get for breaking the old one."

* * *

Adalyn wished she could cover her ears. But, with only one hand, it was moot-central to even try. The young man facing her on the screen was cursing in colorful Mandarin. She just closed her eyes and waited for it pass and delivered an off-sided punch to Jayne because of his snickering. Mal choked back a laugh at that and Jayne rubbed his sore ribs mockingly.

"Private…"

"_Xiao jie he_!"

"Private."

"_Jie nu shr la_!"

"Will!"

The man finally stopped his slew and stared at her, "Just explain to me how in the verse you managed to wreck a masterpiece? The ultimate creation of my career?!"

"It wasn't my choice."

"Do you at least have the parts?"

She grimaced, "They kinda…blew up."

"You blew it up?!"

"No. It…"

"How could you do this! When do you expect me to make another one?"

"As soon as possible."

"What do you think I am?"

"A genius. You'll get it ready?"

"You owe me. Big time!"

"Understood. Just get as far as you can between now and when I get there."

"Don't insult me. I'll have it ready for a fitting when you get here. Besides, it'll take a week in that hunk of junk you're in."

At Adalyn's snicker, Mal leaned forward, "Make it three days."

The private rolled his eyes and closed the wave. Adalyn looked over her shoulder at the captain, "Three days?"

"What?"

"We couldn't make it in three days even if River drove."

His browline flattened, "Have faith."

He scootched her out of the seat and she ignored him while he furiously flipped switches. She and Jayne walked from the bridge and left him there to prove his worth. Jayne had to help steady her when the ship bolted and she couldn't grab both handrails. He looked at her a moment while she kept her gaze to the ground.

"I hope he gets us there in three days," she whispered.

"You okay?"

"I'm missing an arm."

She jerked away from his cradle and walked down the stairs. He let her go alone and she only looked up because she heard the distinct sound of tears and engines. She diverted her steps to the engine room and found Kaylee slouched in her hammock.

"Hey."

The girl straightened and looked, for no better words, spooked. And her eyes were intently focused on Adalyn's stump of a left arm.

Adalyn covered the mechanical stub and cleared her throat. Kaylee looked up at her even though Adalyn quickly averted her eyes to the floor, "You okay?" she asked.

"I, I just never saw it before. You know, without the arm."

"Looks just like any other machine."

Kaylee flinched a bit and tried to smile, "You want me to rig something temporary up?"

"No. Thanks."

"I could. I'm good at figuring things like that out."

"It's not an engine. It's my arm."

"I just…you lost it 'cause of me."

Adalyn sighed, "No. I chose to not get blown up. You were just an incentive," she sat on the steps, off balance.

"Thanks. For…you know."

"Don't mention it."

"But I could make something that'd work for now, I'm sure. So you could hold Maisi until the new one gets put on."

"No. I've been without it before. I'll make do," Adalyn stood, turning to leave.

"My work not good enough?" Kaylee asked, head hung to her chest.

Adalyn didn't answer, just walked away and let the mechanic come to her own conclusions. She got jolted against the bulkhead again when her missing arm failed to steady her against a sharp bank. What Mal was doing up there, she didn't want to know. She would be lucky to keep the stump from needing repairs at the rate she was getting bumped about. Getting to the stairs that let her down by the infirmary, she felt another tumble when the ship lurched again. This time her right arm grip wasn't enough to keep her steady and the handrail got shoved into her ribcage. She cursed. Simon quickly came out from the infirmary having seen it through the window.

"You need help?"

She huffed and stormed past him into the infirmary, hitting the intercom button, "Watch it, Mal!"

She took her hand off the intercom and held onto her ribcage under her left side. Simon came up to her slowly, "Broken?"

"No. Just bruised. Have you seen my daughter?"

"River's got her. In the cargo bay. I think they're playing jacks."

Adalyn just cocked an eyebrow, "My daughter's not…"

Simon shrugged.

Leaving the infirmary and finding her daughter giggling and rolling on the deck, Adalyn smiled. Too young to really understand jacks, Maisi was having enough fun to just steal River's pieces whenever the chance arose. River was tickling her, blowing raspberries and being every bit the perfect big sister.

"Mommy!"

Her daughter scrambled over to her, undaunted by the missing arm and Adalyn got down on her knees to give her a hug.

"Campit Mal's a bad flier!" she exclaimed.

Adalyn smiled again, "Yeah. He is, isn't he? You playing?"

"Playing jacks with RayRay."

"River," the older girl sighed.

Adalyn wanted to stand, holding Maisi in her arms, but the lack of a plural kept her from doing it. She tried to smile, "I dunno. I think RayRay's cute."

"It's not my name."

Adalyn pointed at River, "Who's that?"

"RayRay!"

River rolled her eyes with a smile and Adalyn sat down fully, "Thanks for keeping an eye on her."

"She's learning very quickly. Ahead of standard brain development."

"Another little genius to add to the crew, huh?"

"I'm the genius. You and Simon only have above-average IQs."

"Thanks."

"Din' time?" the toddler squealed.

Adalyn nodded, "Dinner time. Good call. Come on."

Adalyn found her trouble standing wasn't as worrisome as the child with outstretched arms, silently begging to be picked up and carried to the kitchen. She stared at her daughter for a moment before River swooped in from behind and pulled Maisi up into her arms.

She stood there. River carried Maisi away. Dinner would be tough.

* * *

They'd all been used to seeing gleaming metal alongside her, but now that even her mechanical arm was missing, she looked about as pathetic as most would pin anyone with a lost limb. And the fact that dinner was taking longer than usual because of her inability to maneuver as easily as she had twelve hours ago didn't help keep their gazes off her. Zoe had picked up the slack, trying to be the left arm the assassin-cook was used to using. It wasn't a perfect system, but it did keep Adalyn from pitching a fit each time she went to reach for something with a hand that wasn't there.

Zoe carried the steaming plates to the table. Adalyn followed with her right hand clutching the handle of a soup pot. Mal watched the table let a collective sigh of relief out when it was on the table and not hovering over the floor.

Jayne had already dished out a small plate for Maisi, offering the small version of Adalyn a fork. The child decided to ignore the nicety of the utensil and started shoving food into her mouth with her hands.

"So, how long does it take to get something like that reinstalled?" Kaylee asked quietly, passing the potatoes around the table.

Adalyn shrugged, "Well, I didn't damage the port too bad, so it should be just a quick snap. Tighten the lugs that keep it in place. Nothing too complicated. Getting it done the first time, attaching the port, was what took forever."

The mechanic digested that, never going farther to ask just why the prosthetic was needed in the first place. No one had been able to figure out just how Adalyn had lost her arm. She hadn't mentioned it and the few attempts to get it out of her had ended the conversation quickly.

The potatoes found their way to Adalyn. She held the pot with her right hand, dazed for a moment as to how to go about getting a serving from the pot onto her plate. She put the pot down before bracing it against her front, scooping out a thick mass of mashed starch and plopping it down. Plunking the spoon back into the pot, she passed it on. Never a word for help, never more than a moment's pause…she had done this before and it made Mal's heart break to think she'd been accustomed to doing this. He'd lost his fair pound of flesh in the war, but this was something more.

An assassin without her most valuable tools.

* * *

Jayne had more experience getting her undressed than dressed. Doing everything backwards, he tried to not hit the metal port on her shoulder. He'd seen it up close before, but he'd never really seen what it looked like without the attached arm. He caught himself staring more than once and quickly dodged her tired glare.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She shrugged. It looked so awkward without both arms to go with it, "I'm kinda used to it. I just wish I could hold Maisi," she looked over her shoulder at the sleeping toddler in the big bed.

Jayne followed her gaze, unsure, "Want I should stay the night here?"

She hesitated. He saw it, watched it roll over her, "That's up to you."

The shuttle was big, there weren't any two ways around that. And since she'd come back on, Adalyn had taken up the second shuttle as a residence. She said it was because she wanted privacy with Maisi. That she didn't want to keep the crew up if her daughter had a rough night.

Jayne wondered if she'd done it to keep more space between them. Aside from one kiss on the ramp when she'd met them eagerly on Boros, they hadn't touched at all. He hadn't been with her, she hadn't let him do more than that first kiss.

"Don't wanna be intruding," he said softly.

"She kicks at night," she said wistfully, "But she usually sleeps all the way through."

"You ever gonna get her her own bed?"

Another awkward shrug, "We just left everything behind. I don't want her to feel lost. She needs me near her right now."

"What about her pa?"

She hesitated again, "He's never been in her life."

"You ain't even told me who—"

She spun to face him, "Because its none of your business. She's my daughter, not your responsibility."

He looked at the little child, sleeping peacefully, "Know that. Beautiful, like you."

"I didn't come back here to push her on you, Jayne."

"May be that's how I want it. Ain't mine, but, she's yours and that makes her special. Don't it?"

He looked back to see tears brimming her eyes. He stared at her, "What?"

"Why are you acting this way? You never wanted a family. You said so."

He shrugged, "Keep thinking that, if I'd said something…you wouldn't ever have left. Maybe you'd've stayed. 'Stead of leaving to go fight some war. Start a family without me."

"Jayne…"

"Just wished you'd stayed."

She kissed him, a smile on her lips the whole time. He held her. He'd forgotten just how good a kisser she was. Forgotten how her curves fit just so into the angles of his body. But even with the new feelings reminding him of just what they used to be, he knew it couldn't be more. Not with a kid sleeping four feet away. Not with her so down on not having two arms.

He let his forehead touch hers, eyes closed while he dredged up every unpleasant though he could to keep his body from going further, "I think I'll stay."

She smiled again, running his hand down his chest, "Think I like that idea."

Leaving the warmth of his body, she slipped into bed next to her daughter. Stripping from his shirt, he cuddled in on the other side, Maisi between them. Feeling the bed dip, the toddler curled up next to him, her thumb going to her mouth and her body fitting against his broad chest as he lay there on his side.

He felt suddenly frightened. If he rolled, if he crushed her…she was so small, so helpless and so burrowed against him…

Adalyn's hand reached for his and she smiled.

He would learn to sleep gently.

* * *

Kaylee fiddled with the plain band around her left third finger. Moving it in incessant circles, she kept her gaze on the deck. Simon walked around her, throwing aside dirtied clothes before pulling on a pair of lounge pants and sitting next to her. He didn't say anything, didn't ask her anything, just wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

She leaned into him, going further to use his lap as a pillow. She held tight onto his knee, her ear up against his thigh and his hand on her waist. His other hand sifted through her hair methodically. She hated feeling helpless.

Machines were her gift. It was what she was good at. Not only had she distracted Adalyn enough to get her knocked out, she now wasn't even good enough to make a temporary arm for the woman to use until the new one got put on.

"It's not your fault," he said quietly, giving her waist a little squeeze.

"Don't feel that way."

"I'm sure Adalyn will need us. Just…not now," he sighed.

"My fault she got knocked out. My fault she had to blow up her own arm."

She felt him give a sharp, choked little chuckle, "Sounds so ridiculous to hear you say that."

"You think she's mad at me?"

"No."

"Then why won't she let me make a spare?"

Simon shrugged, "I don't know. Maybe she doesn't want anything less than the one her engineer makes."

"Don't even know how she lost the other one and she don't ever tell us nothing about it; like it ain't even an issue at all."

"Well, she's very proud. And private. She might not be telling us because she doesn't want us to worry. Or, it could've been a really stupid accident. With her…"

"Just wish she'd let us help."

He bent over sharply to kiss her on the forehead, "I think we're doing all we can for her."

She rolled a bit, looking up at him, "Then why do I feel like she's shutting us out?"

He smiled down at her, "Welcome to how I've felt for the last three years."

She smiled back. He wrapped her up in his arms, cradling her while she listened to his heartbeat.

* * *

Jayne watched them sleep. Mother and daughter, tucked into the thin blanket. Without the second arm to hold the girl, Maisi had stayed curled up by him most of the night in lieu of Adalyn. Either way, Jayne just watched them. The way Adalyn's chest rose and fell calmly. The way Maisi sucked her lower lip when she dreamed. Even the way the child would reach behind her, feel her mother's skin, and be content to sleep on.

Those bright blue eyes opened and the little girl smiled before stretching. Jayne smiled back.

"Mor'in'," she whispered.

"G'mornin to you, too."

She rolled over to see her mother still asleep, "Mommy's sweeping."

"Wanna come on with me, go make breakfast? Surprise her?"

"Eggs and bakey?"

"Yeah, we can make eggs and bacon."

"Kiss mommy goo'mor'in'," the toddler leaned over and gave her mother a gentle kiss to the forehead.

Jayne followed her lead, grateful to see that the assassin, once easily awoken, continued to sleep without so much as a rustling. Getting up from the bed, he folded the blanket up to her chin and let her nestle in while he gathered the child in his arms and walked from the shuttle, closing the door behind him. Maisi rubbed her eyes, waiting to be put down on the table. Jayne was usually the one to watch Adalyn's morning ritual, Maisi seated on the table and separating out chopsticks and napkins while her mommy made the food.

Jayne was sure he couldn't cook anywhere near as good as his girl, but he would try anyways. If it meant Adalyn got to sleep a bit more than her usual, he would try.

* * *

Trying to push herself up the first time and finding no left arm to do so, she exhaled sharply and rolled to put her right in the position to move her up off the bed. She tiredly reached for her daughter and, upon finding nothing in the space next to her, woke up instantly. She looked around the shuttle, seeing that not only was her daughter missing, Jayne was, too. Her heartbeat calming and her lungs letting out the quick onset of panic in a drawn exhale, she rubbed her eyes to freshen the blood flow to them.

Pulling on a fresher tank top and cargo pants, she walked idly to the kitchen, finding everyone there except for herself. Breakfast was already half-eaten, the smell of burnt protein fading under a half-appetizing aroma of eggs.

"Mommy!" Maisi squealed, running up to her before she was noticed by anyone else.

Jayne smiled when the toddler wrapped her arms around Adalyn's legs, sending her off balance for a moment. Her right arm spun, trying to keep from going down. Righting herself and hunching down to give her daughter a hug, she looked up at Jayne.

He had a plate for her.

"You made breakfast?" she asked.

He shrugged, "Ain't as good as your'n."

She stood, taking the plate with Maisi holding fast onto her baggy pants. Her nose promised a more appetizing meal than her eyes saw on the plate. Jayne pulled out her chair for her and she sat; Maisi clambered up onto her lap a moment later.

"Sorry. Guess I was tired," she admitted.

"Think we'll let it slide this one time," Mal smiled.

She brought the chopsticks and a mouthful of scrambled eggs to her mouth and was grateful she didn't taste eggshells.

"Good?" Maisi asked.

She nodded, "It is. Did you eat already?"

"Daddy Jay fed me!" she giggled.

Adalyn coughed, the eggs getting mixed up with the air she wanted to inhale. She was acutely aware of everyone's gaze on her and her daughter. Managing to swallow down the remainder of the offending eggs, she gave one last cough into her fist and looked at her daughter.

"Maisi…"

" 'Daddy Jay'. I like it," Jayne smiled, sitting across from them.

"Least the kid knows she's family," Mal allowed.

As the tension faded behind the gentle joke, Adalyn was well aware that Simon was still staring at her.

* * *

He was trying to understand. Trying to accept that her decisions were her own and that he really had no say in them. Also trying to understand just how she could go another day while keeping up the lie she'd told the first she came back aboard.

He was sure that, if she had both arms, she'd be crossing them over her chest. As it was, the right just hung limp while she looked out the window of the infirmary to the cargo bay; Jayne, River and Maisi were playing tag. He'd never seen the mercenary act so…normal.

"He needs to know."

"No. He doesn't," she said stiffly.

"Adalyn, you're lying to him. Every day you don't tell him, you're lying right to his face."

"You think I don't know that?"

"I think you don't care."

"He doesn't need to know. She's my daughter. All he can do now is choose if he wants to be her father. I won't force it on him. He can choose. He has that right."

"And if he decides he wants to be a part of her life? What then? Are you going to keep letting him think that he's not her father?"

She looked at him tiredly, "It doesn't matter if he is or isn't. A father is someone who nurtures and loves you. Someone who protects you. If he wants to be a part of her life, blood doesn't matter. Actions do."

Simon sighed, looking past her to the ongoing game, "What about Maisi?"

Adalyn gave a defeated smile, "She already called him 'daddy'. She's made up her mind on the matter."

"You're just lucky she didn't decide to call Mal the same thing. You'd have an explosion if that happened."

She smiled, "I think she likes calling him 'Campit' Mal more."

Simon straightened a bit, "Speaking of…"

Adalyn followed his gaze to see Mal coming down the stairs to the cargo bay floor, shaking his head at the antics and quickly retreating so he wouldn't be called on to participate. He leaned up against the threshold of the infirmary, ticking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Now I know hell must'a froze over to be finding you in here," he teased.

Adalyn smiled, "Just keeping him in line."

"Well, you'll have time for that. Gonna be another few days before we make it to Boros."

Her smile widened, "What? No three days after all?"

"Got a wave from Monty. Shouldn't need but four now that River's damn-near kicked me outta my cockpit. Think you can wait that long to get a new arm?"

"Yeah. Give me some time to calibrate the port," she said lamely.

"Need help with that?"

"No, just painkillers."

"I think that's my department," Simon allowed, turning to rummage through his drawers. He pulled out a glass bottle of liquid morphine and handed it over, "Think this will work?"

She took it and nodded, "Should be enough. Thanks."

"Need an injector?"

She walked out, "Got one."

He watched her go, grateful he could be useful in any shape to her. And that she'd neglected to punch him for the trespass into her affairs with Jayne.

"Nice to see the two of you getting along," Mal noted.

"I guess two years apart makes a difference."

"She tell you anything 'bout that metal arm of hers?"

"Nothing. I don't even know how she plans to calibrate the port. Biomechanics aren't my specialty. But, just seeing it like this, I can tell how it was attached. And the little I know of the subject tells me it was painful."

"Pull anything up on it?"

"No. But I can lend you the medpedia I have. It's a year or so old, but it's still relevant. Why, want a metal arm for yourself?"

"No, just thinking on just why she didn't tell us."

"I would imagine for the same reason she neglected to tell us about Maisi."

Mal thought on that for a moment, looking out the window to see the game still loud. Maisi's laughter was adorably contagious when Jayne playfully tackled her, tickling her besides.

"Jayne's the father, isn't he?"

Simon stared at him, blank, "I don't…"

"Seems if anybody known, it'd be you."

"You know I can't breach confidentiality."

Maisi's little body was sitting atop the merc's; he was faking being dead after she'd tackled him back.

Mal smiled, "No need to, Doc."

"You should ask Adalyn. And maybe before she gets her prosthetic put back on."

"Y'know, always thought it'd be Wash and Zoe bringing some kid onto this boat first. Never pinned Jayne on having a kid. Never figured Adalyn for the type to keep it secret. How things change, huh?"

"You're trying to trick me into telling you something. It won't work," Simon smiled sadly.

Mal smiled back at him; that practiced, even smile that hid so much, "Well, there's hope for you yet."

The captain walked out, heading up the stairs back to whatever his duties entailed while the ship was being flown capably by River. Simon stood there, watching the ensuing beauty of this family. Pushing up his sweater sleeves, he left the infirmary and joined them, pulling out the silver ball they used for hoops and smiling when the toddler attacked it head-on. The ball about as big as she was, her arms barely could grab it enough to throw it at them. That didn't mean she couldn't kick it. And she had good aim, just like her mother.

* * *

Mal's eyebrows shot up into his hairline to see Adalyn laid out on the ramp of _Serenity_ just moments after it opened to a welcoming party. Jayne, for his part, hid a laugh while he kept Maisi at his front, one arm acting as a seat for the toddler.

"What the hell was that for! Are you trying to kill me?" Adalyn screamed, rubbing her jaw.

The young man standing in front of her kept his grip on the wrench tight, "It's for trying to kill yourself! How could you ruin the best work I've ever done?"

Adalyn rolled her eyes and got back to her feet, muttering, "Great, I buy you a wrench and you try to kill me with it."

Standing about a foot shorter than Adalyn herself, the young man had mechanic's goggles pushed up onto his crown with tufts of blonde hair sticking out and grease and grime covering his skin and overalls. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at her.

"I want answers, Chief."

Maisi scooted down from Jayne's arm and ran down the ramp, latching onto the young man's legs and giggling.

"Will!"

Showing all the tenderness he'd neglected to give Adalyn, Will bent down and put a thumbful of grease on the toddler's nose, "Hey, kiddo."

"Mommy needs a new arm."

"Yeah, tell me about it," he stood and took the girl's hand while Monty stepped beyond and offered his usual bear hug to Mal. Exchanging the sentiments, Jayne walked up next to Adalyn, taking Will's hand.

"Hear you keep her in working order."

"Try to, anyways. She doesn't always make it easy."

Adalyn glared at him, "You enjoy it, so stop complaining."

"I enjoy working on an arm, not making one from scratch."

"I appreciate the rush."

"Don't mention it. And I'm holding you hostage until you cook me sugar cakes."

"Ooh, suga cakes!" Maisi squealed.

"Fine, fine. I'll make sugar cakes."

Jayne picked Maisi back up, "Those the sugar rice cakes?"

"Yes."

"Can I get some?"

"Let me get my arm back first."

"Well, I've got it ready for a fitting, if you want to get started."

She nodded, looking back over her shoulder first, "Simon, Kaylee," she waved them over and looked to Jayne, "Do you think you could watch Maisi for the day?"

"Think I'm up for it. What about you, girl?"

"Gonna play jacks with RayRay?"

"If you wanna," he smiled.

Kaylee and Simon came over. Will gave them an appraising look, noticing quickly the similar grease on Kaylee's bare skin and cheeks.

"Simon, Kaylee, this is Will. He's my engineer. You think you could show them the basics?" she asked.

"You're replacing me? That's harsh."

"I'm not. I just can't be rushing back here every time a gear goes loose. Kaylee's the mechanic and Simon's the doctor. They need to know how to calibrate it and God knows I can't explain it. You're still my engineer."

He eyed her suspiciously for a moment before giving an exaggerated exhale, "Fine, I'll show 'em the ropes."

She looked back to Maisi and Jayne, "I'll be back tonight, sweetie," she kissed the toddler on the forehead and Jayne in turn.

* * *

Kaylee had seen some amazing machines in her travels. She'd been able to work on most of them, too. But seeing the smooth design, the unparalleled craftsmanship, the meticulous calibration and the rugged beauty of Adalyn's new arm as it lay steaming from an oil bath made her squeal. Running her fingers down the grooves of the forearm, she felt neither a flaw nor a warp in the material itself.

"You built this by hand?" she asked.

"Did at that. All hand-hammered. Have to with something like this. Can't just cut the pieces. They have to be worked by hand every bit of the way."

"But for it to match with the port on her shoulder…" Simon said, equally transfixed by the gleaming metal.

"Well, the port's got a standard piece in it. Nothing more than a socket for an engine. The arm gets built around it."

"How much wiring goes into it?"

"Over five hundred feet. It's got over a hundred open connections in the port that let her use it just like a normal hand; just about as nimble, too. She can thread a needle with those fingers."

They heard a muffled scream from the next room. Will didn't seem at all bothered by it but Kaylee and Simon shared a glance.

"She okay?" Kaylee looked back to the engineer.

"Yeah, getting the port hammered back into shape. Unfortunately, it don't have an off switch."

"You mean…she feels that?" Simon asked.

"Every bit just like it was her own flesh getting hammered on. Takes a bit of dope to keep her from passing out. Haven't seen her port this messed up since the ambush on Santo."

"What happened then?"

"Mag-bomb. Played Mary Hobb with the wiring in her arm. She was screaming for hours while we recalibrated everything, even with being dropped."

Another cut-off scream and they heard something fall and shatter. Again, Will paid it no mind. His attention was on lifting the metal arm off the soaked towel to dunk it the hot oil tub that lay at the end of the table.

"Most folk don't get a prosth because of the price, but even then, the surgery and rehab are a brand of hell most aren't willing to walk through. She's paid her toll a dozen time's over. Guess it's all worth it to her; she gets to hold her kid at the end of the day."

"How did it happen?" Simon asked.

Kaylee shot him a look. He couldn't help it. If they didn't ask him, Adalyn might never tell them.

Will let the metal arm clunk to the bottom of the tub, putting aside the tongs he'd held it with, "It was rough, that's for sure. She was lucky. We all thought she was gonna lose the baby."

"It happened while she was pregnant?"

He nodded, "House got bombed during an air raid. Little girl was still stuck inside. Chief ran in, never thought twice. Ran in and found the kid. The house collapsed, beams couldn't take the fire. Monty ran in after that. Said a strut had fallen on her, pinned her arm. She'd sheltered the kid from the fall, but her arm was mangled. Monty couldn't lift it. Couldn't wait for help 'cause the smoke was so thick. She cut it off. Monty carried them both out. Little girl she'd saved was fine, save for some scratches. Chief was touch and go for a few days. Thought we'd lose her. After she woke up, she asked me to do the surgery for the prosth. Said she wanted to be able to hold her kid when she was born. We attached it about a week before Maisi was born. Doctors had to do a C on her, she was so weak. But she got to hold Maisi."

* * *

Adalyn clenched her hand around the side of the medbed she was on. The last hammer strike had sent flashes behind her eyes and now that it was over all she wanted was a glass of water. She felt the cool liquid tease her lips before she was sure she could open them without wailing. Her half-naked body was covered in sweat, trembling for the tenseness in her muscles.

Managing to sip at the water like a bird, she felt a cold cloth placed over the back of her neck, dripping down her front to soak the waistband of her pants and her bra.

She'd forgotten to tell Will that she didn't exactly like the idea of her friends knowing just what had happened. She had no trouble with them knowing every bearing, ever gear, every wire in her arm, but she didn't want them to think for a moment that she'd put her life, and Maisi's, in jeopardy for such a stupid reason.

She shouldn't have run in all by herself. She should've waited for help like Monty begged her to. In retrospect, she was lucky to have escaped at all. The strut was steel and had fallen along with the rest of the house. For the life of her, she couldn't remember exactly how her arm had come to be pinned under the beam. All she knew was that it was Daryl's daughter.

She couldn't be blamed for that. For saving his first-born child and forgetting that she was on her way to becoming a mother herself. She was only four months along. She wasn't even really showing yet. But, unlike _Serenity_, everyone she worked with knew. How they'd all found out, she was still clueless.

She had a sneaking suspicion that Simon had waved them about it, but to this day she couldn't say if that was her own paranoid mind or the boy had just played it close to the vest.

"How are you feeling?" the tech asked.

"Shitty. Can we do this already? I have a daughter to put to bed later."

The tech smiled, "You know, it is normal to wait a few days before reattaching the prosthetic. Especially when you just got the port fixed. You don't need to tax yourself."

"I have a daughter waiting for me. And I need to read her to sleep tonight."

Smiling, the young woman walked out and opened the door, relaying her urgency to Will. She smiled to hear her engineer mutter, "Damn woman doesn't even wanna wait a day after all that hollerin."

He was a good kid. She was lucky to have found him. For the brother's she'd lost, he'd become the closest thing she'd found to having another one. He was younger, cockier, and nervier than she remembered being at his age, but he was a prodigy. Not many could make the metal arm and even less could make it so attuned to what she needed.

She smiled to overhear his well-used speech about the oil bath for the arm and the extreme temperatures that it couldn't deal with. In all honesty, she was grateful he was giving the lecture to Simon and Kaylee instead of her. Maybe it meant she would actually remember to obey the golden rule of keeping the prosthetic more in line with the temperature of her body.

"Warms it up to body temperature. Don't wanna make her go hypothermic. Good rule for you two to keep in mind; you take her anywhere cold, you gotta make sure she don't stay out in it for too long. Hydraulics in the arm ain't made for harsh temperatures like that. Not to mention it'll give her frostbite at the junctions. Same with extreme heat. Metal will heat up and burn the skin it's attached to."

Hearing that they were coming closer, she forced her tense body to relax and quickly straightened a bit. It would be bad enough that they would see the reattachment. They didn't need to think she was already so under the weather from a half-dozen hits to her shoulder.

Simon blushed to see her only in her bra and pants and that, more than anything, made it easy to ignore the constant throb of a missing limb. Will, calm as always, didn't care in the least that she was shirtless. If anything, it meant he was in his element. This, like Simon's infirmary, was where he operated. He gently laid down the arm on the counter.

"Now comes the big lesson," he said, gesturing towards her.

She smiled, "Teach away."

He gently had her hunch over, showing the back of the port on her shoulder. She could feel him pointing to over-sensitized skin.

"The port's attached directly to her shoulder blade, ribcage and her collarbone. Got ten visible screws that hold it in. Seven on the blade, three on the collar. Another half dozen are under the meat. Skin's been peeled back to let the metal touch bone directly. Gives it a stronger hold. It's sensitive, so a hit to the shoulder will deal more pain than anything else. Lean back, Chief."

She did so and closed her eyes, used to the constant prodding if not the lecturing, "The connection on her collarbone's weaker. She gets hit hard, it could snap the bone altogether."

"Nice image," she muttered.

"Shuddup you. I'm working."

"Sorry," she smiled.

He looked to Simon, "Medically, you're gonna be the one what deals with the connections. They can get infected. Not to mention the skin can split if she ain't careful. That happens, you need to make sure nothing you use is water based. Titanium alloys don't rust, but the water can get under the joints and play havoc on the wiring. Oil-based is better."

Simon nodded and Will took his hand and placed it flat on the front of her shoulder, not too terribly far from her bra and the curves underneath.

"You feel that?" Will asked, not noticing Simon's blushing cheeks.

"I, uh…"

"The metal under the skin?"

Simon cleared his throat and Kaylee hid her smiling face behind a hand, "Yeah."

"That's connected to her ribcage. Ever she complains of chest pain, this is the first place you look. If those screws don't have enough give, they can keep her from breathing right. Metal gets bent, same thing. That happens, you gotta slice her open and loosen the screws."

"I'll be sure not to complain," Adalyn sighed.

Will rolled his eyes at her, letting Simon take his hand off her chest.

"Now, the not-so-fun part. I already gave your eager mechanic here the overview of the parts and how they should calibrate."

"Thanks."

"You ready?" he asked.

She nodded, "As ever I'll be."

He pulled another cold towel from the coolbin, rolling it and wringing it out before laying it over her eyes. She exhaled, the coolness enough of a comfort that it made her forget for a moment that she was about to have every nerve in her arm reawakened and reconnected.

"You, go behind her and hold her shoulders," Will said.

She felt warm hands on her slick shoulders, gently holding her and she knew by the way they tentatively closed that Simon was the one behind her. Another pair of hands held onto her right arm.

"If you're gonna be taking care of her out in the black, you'd better get used to hurting her," he said.

She swore she heard Kaylee whimper. There was agonizing silence. She could hear the rattle of her arm as it was lifted and carried closer. Her heart beat in her ears, her right fist clenching and unclenching.

More rattling. More waiting. No doubt Will was showing her exactly just how to hold it, just how to line it up without letting dead metal hit live electricity. The grip on her shoulders tightened almost painfully. The grip on her arm stayed strong, but loose. She waited, wishing that nothing would happen this time. That her mind would give her some deep reserve to dive into while her arm was shocked back into life. The towel over her eyes wasn't as cool as it had been a moment ago.

She screamed. Her back arched. Lightening shot up her neck and down her side, igniting every old wound and scar that had healed. Ripped them all open and left her gasping, swearing in Mandarin.

The water from the towel had dripped down her cheeks.

* * *

Mal watched with bated breath as his merc sat next to her, repeatedly wiping away the sweat on her brow with a cool towel. He hadn't expected to see Addy in such bad shape when they'd gotten the call. He hadn't expected Maisi to be so easy about it all and he certainly hadn't expected Jayne to be so tender as he was being.

"She gonna be okay?" he looked over his shoulder at the young engineer.

The boy nodded, "Yeah. The reconnect is the worst part. Plays havoc with her brain pan. Not to mention the pain. But she's usually on her feet at day's end, if not a little sore and addled."

"I've never seen a reattachment before. I'd heard of them, back on Osiris, but…I always thought the surgeons were exaggerating."

"I've done reattachments for other folk. Usually knocks them out cold for a day. A week before they're up and about. She's tough, I'll give her that."

Mal smiled, looking back to see Adalyn on the couch, "You don't say."

* * *

She flexed her left had, making a fist and glad to hear the creak of shifting metal. Jayne smiled at her, the towel handy to keep her fever down. She lifted the metal arm and felt a difference; it was lighter than before. Looking it over, she couldn't see any discernable difference in the design. It was just…lighter.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

She nodded, "Better. Just making sure it works."

He interlaced his flesh fingers with her metal ones, smiling, "Had me worried."

"Nothing new. Just hurts, is all."

"Doc said you put up a fight."

Her brow furrowed.

"Said he had to fight to keep you down when they latched it back on. Will had to help, too, after Kaylee latched it."

"Well, that's nothing new. I'm just glad it's over."

She started to sit up and he helped brace her while she swung her legs to touch the floor. Her vision didn't catch up for a moment and she kept her chin touching her chest until the black spots faded away.

"Thanks for watching her," she said quietly.

"Fun kid. Takes after her momma."

Adalyn only smiled at him, her left hand and his right still wrapped around each other. She leaned forward, putting her head on his chest and feeling his heartbeat.


	43. A Lost Saying

He noticed her tattoo when she was laying on her stomach, arms under the thin pillow and face buried deep into soft, sterilized cotton. He couldn't believe he'd never seen it before. On Boros, he'd been too preoccupied with her half-nakedness. Before that, she'd been hurt and bruised and wounded enough to have her shirt off in front of him. But he'd never seen her backside during those frantic times. He'd never seen her sprawled out on the medcot, either. She just looked so…at peace.

The tattoo was beautiful. Hard lines in some tribal pattern. They were thick, not shaded, and they made a set of wings on her back. Not fluffy wings. Not angel's wings. Hard wings. Like an avenging hawk swooping down. Written in Mandarin, above and below, was a phrase. _Live fast. Die never. _His brow furrowed. He'd never pinned someone like her for having a tattoo. Being from the core, such a marking would render her all but an outcast. It must've been after the Academy. It must've been a decision. To live.

For all the time they spent near each other, avoiding each other and saving each other's lives, he'd never known she had a tattoo.

Of course, he had found her taking a nap in the infirmary after getting her arm reattached. When she woke up, he would have to smile and ask just what had spun her mind around to let her sleep in the one place she'd always been most uncomfortable.

He stepped into the blue room further, seeing suddenly why she was sleeping in his domain.

Her daughter was sleeping on the foldout bed in the wall. Considering that for the last three days, the young child had been crying and screaming about leaving her teddy at Boros' port, peace and quiet and sanctuary were in short supply. Maisi obviously having found a suitable replacement in the mottled blanket used for medical emergencies, Adalyn hadn't argued and had followed her daughter to exhausted sleep.

Simon smiled, moving closer and pulling a spare blanket from the drawers. He laid it over Adalyn, bringing it all the way to her shoulders to cover her tattoo. His fingers brushed it, feeling the inked skin raised off the bare flesh just the slightest amount. Just enough to be able to trace the lines of it blindly if need be. She shifted slightly, but didn't wake up.

He moved away again, watching her over his shoulder as he retreated.

Mal was standing in front of him when he stopped looking over his shoulder. He didn't jump, just smiled softly.

"I think she's exhausted."

"Its from the war," Mal said, arms crossed over his chest.

Simon's brow furrowed.

Mal's eyes found the black lines that still poked out over the blanket, "Saying we had in the barracks. Brothers must've waved her about it."

"She's carried it with her this whole time."

"Most folk from that war do."

Simon watched Mal walk away. He wondered suddenly just where the captain had kept his hidden. Or Zoe, for that matter. Where had they inked tribute to fallen comrades on their bodies? Where had they given flesh for a simple saying?

He looked back at Adalyn. She was still asleep.

She was still living.


	44. Feelings Aren't Ever Lost

_That damned teddy bear will be my death_.

Mal poked around the shuttle, looking for the stuffed animal. Maisi, adorable as she could be, was nothing but a tyrant at the moment, screaming for a teddy bear that wasn't anywhere to be found. In the decision to move from the shuttle to the bunks near the infirmary, things had gotten misplaced, found, and lost again. Addy was moving Maisi into a room of her own; the mother would be right across the hall, of course, but that didn't mean it was going smoothly.

_Of all the days I had to babysit…_

He hissed in pain when his chest reminded him just why he was stuck on babysitting duty. The gunshot from earlier in the week hadn't been clean and it hadn't missed. If it hadn't been for the Doc's skilled hands, he would've been long gone. So, wounded and declared unable to hold his own in the upcoming meet, Addy had gone in his stead along with Zoe and Jayne. Kaylee and Simon, engrossed with each other, had gone off. River, he was sure, was hiding somewhere in the vent shafts of _Serenity_, reading and ignoring the 'verse beyond her book.

Maisi's wail reminded him that he didn't have that luxury.

Pushing aside Adalyn's locked tote, he found it. Quickly dashing back to the bed where the toddler had seated herself, he offered it up with a tired, pleading smile.

"See? Teddy's right here."

Sniffling, Maisi grabbed at it and held it to her front. Mal exhaled deep and felt his throbbing head thank him for the success.

Her arms latched around the thing's neck, Maisi laid down on the big bed, snuggling with it. Mal envied her; something so simple put her at ease. Her tear-stained cheeks drying and her body worn out from crying for the last hour, Mal watched her slowly drift off. Her bottom lip became her pacifier. Teddy became the stand in for her mother and Mal smiled to see sewn-up gaps where the bear had gone through some rough moments. The fur was mottled, the eyes were scratched and dull, and the little bowtie on the front was no longer blue, but brown. Only in the creases of the fabric could the original color be seen.

_Definitely got her money's worth_.

Reaching out and turning off the lights, Mal opted to stay in the dark shuttle, watching the child sleep. His chest was still hurting and he was in no hurry to leave. Sitting in the cockpit, he angled the chair enough to be able to watch Maisi sleep.

She looked so small in that big bed.

When she slept, she looked just like her mother. So beautiful, so peaceful. He had no doubt that Maisi would be just as stunning as Addy come the day.

Folding his hands in his lap and leaning back, he surveyed the shuttle. Adalyn's touch was all over it. But it wasn't the same as what her bunk had been or would be. There were no guns along the walls. No orange pill bottles that saved her head after a bad day. Not even spare ammunition, waiting to be refilled. But there were stuffed animals. Quilts and blankets that had been brought from the house on Boros. Open drawers that boasted strewn clothes and unmentionables.

_I wonder if she wears lace_.

The thought hit him so hard, he was sure he bolted upright in the seat. He rubbed his eyes and tried to ignore the beautiful image of her in black lace, matching top and bottom. If it was possible, she'd gotten curvier since he'd last seen her. She was a mother, so he supposed the increase on the curves was something that went along with that. But…

Did she have to be curvy in just the right places? Why couldn't she have just gotten thicker, heavier? Why did her body, already beautifully proportionate, have to turn into a pure hourglass silhouette? And why, sitting here in the darkened shuttle, was his brain racking through feelings he was sure he'd pushed aside?

He'd been drunk. She'd been willing. His gut heated up to remember that, for all they'd shared, that night had never really dulled in his mind.

_And why do I feel jealous seeing her with a kid_?

_Because she's doting on someone else._

He leaned back in the chair, the heavy chunk in his chest telling his to feel guilty as hell. Maisi was her world now. She'd left _Serenity_ to find peace of mind and, no matter what her reasons, he couldn't blame her. She'd wanted something more for her child. She'd wanted it enough to leave everything she had behind. Him. Jayne. Everyone.

She'd opted to undergo surgery, painful and harsh, just so she could hold her daughter.

_If she hadn't left, she wouldn't have needed it_.

But he didn't blame her.

_Yes, I do_.

She'd made the only choice she could.

_She chose uncertainty over me._

He sat there, watching Maisi sleep, and wondered just how he was supposed to forgive her for ever leaving. She wasn't his. She would say she wasn't anybody's. But she was his to mind. Her brothers had asked that much of him. He'd sworn to protect her and…

_And she didn't trust me enough to protect her_.

For all they'd shared, for all they'd sacrificed for the other, she only trusted him that far. She didn't have faith that he could keep her safe. Her, or her daughter. When it came down to it, she'd left because she didn't trust him.

His eyes fell on a little bottle of perfume, outlined by the scant light that came in through the cracked shuttle door.

_Since when does she wear perfume?_

He hated to think that she'd changed. Hated to think that the cold, hard assassin was someone else now entirely. Now, she was a woman. She had a life other than the one the Academy had forced on her. She was a mother. She was nurturing and caring, softened and toughened. She was untouchable.

_I know what she feels like_.

_I wonder if she has anything with black lace and gems_…

_She loves Jayne!_

_Only because I never told her how I felt…_

_I don't love her._

_Yes. I do_.

The sliver of light showed off the shuttle for what it was. It was her. Her in the darkness. He didn't know what was in the shadows. He didn't know what was under the bed. But he knew the feel, the smell. He knew it was her, through and through. He knew enough to feel safe.

He couldn't love her. It wasn't right.

_Does love ever feel wrong?_

It wasn't right to expect anything out of her, most especially when she was still with Jayne. And in now way could he expect to compete with the younger, brawnier man. She'd chosen Jayne and, despite all their ups and downs, was happy with him.

_I pushed her away. That's why she chose him_.

He looked at the tote. The locked one. Of all the items in her room, that was the one that maybe was what represented her the most. Locked and secured, he didn't know or even begin to know what could be in it. She'd had the totes forever, but he never remembered them being locked.

_I wonder just what she's hiding_.

He leaned back into the chair, looking up at the ceiling. The steady sound of Maisi sucking on her own bottom lip was reassuring. At least she wasn't screaming and had worn herself out doing so earlier. He watched her in the dark, the outline of her; her whole body relaxed and curled up with the teddy bear.

The cargo bay door opened and shut. That was his crew, coming back. Hearing the heavy clomp of three pairs of boots, he was assured it was Zoe, Jayne and Adalyn. Simon and Kaylee, he supposed, would be out a while longer while they could spare the time.

River, out from her hiding, could be heard a bit. She always talked so quietly. He couldn't make it out but he was sure she was talking to Adalyn.

_I'm sitting in the dark. In her shuttle._

The sound of footsteps coming closer made him panic. Would she kick him out for lounging in her room? Or would the fact that he'd put Maisi to sleep for her be enough of a calm to keep her from ranting about privacy?

The door slid open silently. She was silhouetted against the brightness of the cargo bay.

_She really does have more curves…_

She slid the door mostly closed again, leaving a little light to fall across the foot of the bed. He waited for her to see him, for her to say something. He was sitting in the cockpit. It wasn't like he was hiding, after all. Crossing the shuttle, she leaned over the bed and dotted a kiss to Maisi's forehead, gently brushing the brown curls out of her daughter's face before giving one more tender kiss.

Her back was to him and after pulling off her full-hand gloves, she yanked off the long, tight-fitting overcoat that somehow managed to hide all of the guns she'd brandished for the meet. He stared, transfixed.

_She doesn't know I'm here._

Reaching behind her, she unclasped the safety straps on the holsters that hung down from her rear. The guns clunked heavily against the wood of the dresser. At least he knew from the full magazines that the drop had gone well. Another set of guns, latched onto the armored pants at her thighs, were set down next to the others. All in all, eight guns were set down. She quickly gathered them up and moved back towards the bed, reaching to the shelves overtop to take down a small trunk. Locking them up, she reached on her tiptoes to put the trunk back where children couldn't see or get to it.

_She still doesn't know I'm here._

_Say something, dammit! She's not armed anymore…_

She pulled off the leather chest holster, tossing it down to the floor. She reached around to her front, unbuttoning the long-sleeved blouse that hid her prosthetic metal arm. Her tank top hugged her like a second skin and the small sliver of light made the metal of her left arm gleam. The shirt was tossed aside, landing on the open drawers that had distracted him earlier.

She unbuttoned her pants; they slid down a bit. His mouth went dry and he watched her fumble around for something.

_So she does have lace under all that artillery_…

The slightest bit of her underwear was showing over the rim of her pants, blue and lace. She was still searching for something in the dark, muttering incomprehensible Mandarin. She moved towards the cockpit and he tensed.

_I should've said something five minutes ago!_

_Never thought she'd actually wear lace…_

A self-righteous calm fell over him. He was just doing what she'd asked, anyhow. Watching Maisi. He could say he'd fallen asleep in the chair. He could say he was just making sure her daughter wasn't alone in the shuttle by herself. Besides, it wasn't like she was the one who could read minds and River wouldn't ever stoop so low as to tell her just what racy images had popped into his head…

She crossed her arms over her front, reaching for the bottom hem of her tank top to lift it up.

_Say something before she lifts it!_

_She is a lot curvier…_

_What's wrong with me?_

_Take it off…take it off…_

_Dammit, Reynolds! Say something!_

_She's beautiful._

_So silky…_

_Is that a little blue bow on her hip?_

_She doesn't have a bra on!_

_Take it off…take it off…_

_She's gonna kill me!_

He bit down an astonished gasp. He could see the underside of her breasts, the curve there just enough to make a strangled little sound of shock.

She was staring at him, frozen in mid-lift. His eyes met hers. They stared and he tried to find some moisture in his mouth to talk, to apologize.

The blur of movement and the sound of a hammer clicking back made him jolt up from the seat with realization. She couldn't tell who he was. It hadn't been long enough for her eyes to adjust. He could see her but he doubted, more so now that she was yanking a gun from somewhere, she could really make him out.

"Addy, it's me!" he said in a strangled whisper, hands up and open for her to see.

The sound of the safety clicking on made him release the pent-up breath he didn't realize he was holding in.

"Mal?"

He felt sick to his stomach. It might have been better to let her shoot him. But he saw the relieved smile form on her face, the gun get tucked back into the rear pocket of her pants.

_No wonder they slid down_.

"Sorry," she apologized.

His hands drifted down and he tried to smile, "Should be me saying that."

She looked over her shoulder at the bed, at her daughter, "You got her to sleep?"

"Yeah, gave her the teddy bear."

She looked back at him, "You found it? Thought we'd left it on Boros."

He shrugged, "Guess not."

She idly clasped her pants, "Thanks."

He nodded, "Least I could do…" he shrugged, "Guess I'll get going. Let you…get dressed."

She moved aside, letting him past her. Their bodies touched, he could feel the warmth of her arm, her flesh, against his. He didn't look her in the eye. He couldn't. He had to apologize. It was wrong, and he felt like he'd betrayed her.

"Addy…"

"Hmm?"

He faced her. She was looking more at Maisi than anything else.

"I didn't mean to see."

She looked at him, face flat and unreadable, "Nothing you haven't seen before."

He blushed. She almost smiled, almost made him shrink with that simple, knowing fact. But, as it were, she only turned away from him, getting back to searching for whatever it had been earlier. He stood there for a moment, watching her.

"Sorry," he apologized again.

"No worries. I won't tell Jayne."

_You can't even have the decency to kill me yourself?_

"Much appreciated."

She smiled at him, genuine, warm. Like it had all been a joke. But she was still wearing only that tank top. It was stuck to her sweaty body. It looked, for all the 'verse, to be her second skin. But it didn't bother her.

_Why do you have to be so untouchable?_

He looked down at the floor.

"Mal, don't worry about it."

He looked back up at her.

She was still smiling, comforting him.

She was still trusting him.


	45. Lost Mirror

Things never got easy. They never got simpler. They just…continued. One challenge was exchanged for another, the next, and that was how it just was. There was no rhyme or reason to it, just the constant reminder that, no matter how she prevailed, things would always be this rough. Things would always try to pull her down, end her, and keep her silent against the Alliance. Things would always be there to haunt her. And the haunting made things consistent, if not comforting. At least she could count on the nightmares. Like clockwork. And the headaches, like the turn of the world. Those things just existed alongside her, part of her, making her who she was.

Sad thing, they defined who she was.

The nightmares assured her this wasn't all a dream and the headaches reminded her that the Academy still had its claws in her skin. They made her get through the day because every minute she could live in spite of that constant, aching throb of a reminder, she was winning.

Even in this circular existence, she was winning.

She could make breakfast, help the crew, play with her daughter, and that was enough to be called winning. It was enough to make her smile.

It was all being ripped away. Her life, her existence. All of it, shredded before her eyes.

She stared at the man facing her with datacards in his hand. His brown eyes were soulless, empty. The katana on his back was threatening because she knew, innately knew, that it could be more deadly than any well-aimed shot. His blonde hair hid the pommel; it was longer than she remembered. She remembered. She remembered being turned into an assassin. She remembered being stripped of everything she'd been. She remembered being molded, shaped. She remembered him.

She wanted to reach for her gun. Even with all her skill, she doubted she could pull it quick enough to harm him, let alone immobilize him. He was thinking the same of her. Could he unsheathe the katana easily enough, swift enough, to render her incapable of pulling a trigger?

They stared at each other. He was smiling. Her face was taut, exhausted.

She pulled her gun.

He unsheathed his katana.

The datacards dropped to the concrete.

Her thumb flicked off the safety. His braced against the hilt. They both stepped in, their arms arcing. She felt the cold steel against her throat about the time her gun touched his temple. They both froze, staring. Her green eyes met his of coal.

The hammer was set back. The blade had already drawn a thin line of blood.

"Has it really come to this?" she asked.

"I was about to ask you that, as well."

"If you kill me, you'll die, too."

"The same can be said for you."

"I can't go back there."

"I can't let you go anywhere else."

"I have a daughter."

"I have my duty."

She almost smiled. It was a mirror. What she could've been. What they might've turned her into had she not escaped. Relentless, logical, void of emotion…she could've been an Operative for the very government that had stripped her of humanity. She'd run away from it, escaped from it. And now the mirror had come back to show her just what she hadn't been able to outrun.


	46. Lost Destiny

Mal reached for his gun. Adalyn's neck literally on the line, he wasn't willing to wait. But the messy decapitation he was expecting never happened. The Operative was as frozen as Addy. The man she had a gun to the temple of was sandy blonde and around Mal's height. His hair hit his shoulders. Dark brown eyes and a round, cherubic face didn't set off any alarms in Mal's list of threats. He was dressed in clean-cut threads of red and gold. If it hadn't been for the katana at Addy's throat, Mal wouldn't've paid him another thought.

They stood in strained silence for a long moment. Adalyn's trigger finger was tight and the Operative's knukles were white. Mal finally drew his gun, Jayne ready to do the same if it came down to it. Without ever taking his eyes off Adalyn, the man smiled warmly. Mal straightened. If a shootout was to happen, best it happen here where there was plenty of ammunition. Jayne tensed, his hand fully closing around his gun.

"I can make this easy for you, Captain Reynolds. I only want to bring her back where she belongs. You and your crew can go in peace."

"You're one of them, aren't you? One of them Operatives. Come to bring her in to justice."

"Your knowledge is impressive. But even she knows I'm more than that. Don't you, Hope?"

Her brow furrowed and she looked over his face for a moment.

"What did they do to you?"

"They made me what you never had a chance to become. But now I'm giving you that chance. You can come back."

"I'm so sorry I didn't get you out with me."

"Don't be."

"But I can't go back."

He nodded, "I understand."

He brought his hand and the katana up, slamming the hilt of the weapon into her temple. She fell sideways, her gun skittering across the floor in the fall.

Jayne had his gun out and aimed. The Operative kicked it easily form his grip. Mal tried to throw a punch. He blocked it and landed one to the captain's jaw. Jayne brought his arm up for a bludgeoning but before he could bring it down, the man kicked again, sending Jayne backwards into a glass case. Mal rebounded and threw a punch. It never landed. The man grabbed his wrist and threw. Mal was forced over the Operative's head and landed on his back.

The man stood there, silent, looking down to Adalyn.

"They don't need to suffer, Hope. You can make this easier on everyone if you only cooperate."

She staggered to her feet and wiped blood from her face, "You always were a cocky sumbitch. Forgetting that I always beat you in drills."

"That was then."

He lashed out with a boot and nailed her in the stomach. She doubled over.

"This is now."

He brought his knee up to her forehead and she swayed a moment before she fell onto her back. Mal jumped to his feet and wrapped his arms around the shoulders of the man, trying to bring him down before he did any more damage. The man doubled over and Mal found himself flying again, landing once more on his back next to Adalyn after hitting a glass case. The shards cut into his back and he'd landed on his neck after that hit. His vision doubled. He could only watch, stunned, as Adalyn got to her feet once more. Jayne had yet to get up but he couldn't worry just yet.

Adalyn came out swinging. The man leaned back to avoid a backhanded fist. He pulled his chest forward and tried to land a blow to her front but she caught his fist, shoving his arm backwards for good measure before turning on her side and lashing her foot out to aim at his neck. His free hand blocked her by the ankle, shoving her foot to the ground and sending her off balance. She almost fell back but managed to grab onto a column's rounded edge to keep herself up. She pushed off it. Her fists clasped together to make a cannonball and she swung them like a bat, nailing him at his jaw line with her left fist leading.

He never fell. His body tensed and he used the chance to swing around with another backhand. It connected and she fell sideways to land face first on the stone slab floor. Her swollen, red and bloody eyes looked to Mal as they both lay there for a moment. He wanted to get up. He wanted more than anything to keep this from going on. He tried to get to all fours but a boot came down on his chest. He was forced flat again, the pressure making his already aching lungs more a burden than an ease. The man stood over him.

A glint of polished steel made Adalyn haul herself to her hands and knees. He looked at her while blood drained from her nose and mouth and her eyes swelled.

"This could have been avoided, Hope."

He lifted the sword up for a blow.

She screamed, throwing herself forward to tackle him at the waist. They crashed into a similar display case that Jayne had found himself currently slumped on. They went through it, glass slicing at their skin and clothes. His sword flew from his grip. The narrow, clerk walkway behind the case made it hard to roll on her side before getting up. But up she got and she tried to take advantage.

He was only on his knees and the chop-kick she dealt was aimed for his shoulder. He caught her by the ankle again. He yanked and she fell on her back, the other leg landing under her wrong. She yelped. He threw her good—albeit bruised—leg down and stood over her. He grabbed her by the collar and picked her up to stand on her feet. She knew and she shook her head, trying to appeal to whatever was left of him in this Alliance shell.

He lifted her by her collar before slamming her back down. Her head hit hardest against the rock floor. She winced, grateful that he let her go. She rolled onto her side, coughing out blood.

A shot rang out. The Operative doubled over before looking at his attacker. She couldn't see who it was, but she lashed out and kicked the new wound. He yelped, flailing before falling backwards. She grabbed onto the shattered counter to lift herself up and found a gloved hand offered to her.

Jayne helped her over the shattered glass case and Mal stood with them. Blood was rolling down Jayne's face from a gash across his forehead. Mal's face was bruised and cut, blood staining the back of his shirt and seeping through to his jacket.

Her leg wouldn't cooperate. Wouldn't do anything. Jayne, less beat up than them both, helped her limp along. Blood stained her shirtfront as it drained from her sliced face and bloody nose. The million or so slices on her back weren't helping either.

* * *

Her body felt swollen and stiff and all manner of things she'd not felt in years. Numerous weaves and stitches covered her face, arm, legs and chest and back. Everywhere. She looked like a quilting design or some such. Even her metal arm was creaking. She didn't want to lay down. She didn't want to go to the infirmary like Simon had pleaded she should. He'd slid the door closed and left her in her private hell.

"How is she?"

She shouldn't have been surprised that Mal would ask such a stupid question. They didn't bother to move out of earshot. Not that they knew she could hear that good, of course. But still, it irked her.

"She's stable."

"You said it was an Operative?"

"Was at that. He was after her."

"But she's been out of the Academy long enough now, right? They haven't come after her yet. Why now?"

"Whyever the man came, he was ready for it. Threw us all around."

"Are you sure she'll be okay?"

"She looked real beat up. Last time she looked that bad was when Roland got a hold of her."

"There's internal bleeding, but I don't think it's a real threat. She lost a lot of blood. Not that she's letting me do anything about it. No breaks. Just a few fractures. Knowing her, she'll be fine in a day or two."

"And when that man comes after her again? What we do then?"

"Don't rightly know."

"Not to poke, but, if he threw all three of you around, what can we do? She's the best we got and if he beat her down same time he did you two, I don't like our chances."

"You got any notions on him, little albatross?"

"I've never met him. She was going to be an Operative. Not me. She knows him. You'd have to ask her."

"If ever there was a time we needed you to be a reader, it'd be now. We need something to get her free of this."

Adalyn stood. Such a stupid notion, getting her free of this. There was no free. She belonged to that Academy no matter how free she was. She slid her door open and stood there. Mal turned when he saw ashamed eyes diverted to the floor after glancing behind him.

"There is no 'free of this'. He will kill everyone to get to me. So we don't give him a reason. I turn myself in and end this."

"That's not an option," Mal glared at her.

"Not many others and it's my choice."

"You ain't leaving this boat."

"I have to, Mal."

"No."

Her leg wanted to give out. She braced her weak body on the stairway. Simon went to steady her but kept hands away when she gave a little glare. She swallowed down the pain.

"I have to finish this on his turf."


	47. A Lost Choice

Simon could've sworn she was right next to him. Running. He could've sworn he'd heard her yell at him to leave with her, to let the trained assassin handle the onslaught. They had precious cargo to ensure the safety of. They had a responsibility. Between the screaming and the sound of another fight gone in the favor of an unstoppable man, Simon knew they didn't have long to get ahead.

Turning to see Kaylee not next to him, but twenty steps behind him and stationary, he skidded to a halt and spun to see her with a gun aimed squarely at the Operative. The blonde-haired man was staring down the barrel of it, unsure. He had sworn to only go after Adalyn. After those who stood in his way to obtaining that goal. Up until this point, he and Kaylee hadn't been among them.

He wanted to yell at her. Tell her to drop the gun. Because now she was an enemy to that monster of a being. His voice was frozen. His arms around Maisi, he hadn't held onto Kaylee's hand to keep her from picking the gun up. He looked beyond her and the Operative to see Adalyn and Jayne on the ground, beaten. Adalyn rolled onto her side, coughing blood onto the cracked stone walkway.

"Put the gun down, miss," the Operative said smoothly, no more concern on his face than if he was looking at a child with a cap-gun.

Kaylee's hand tightened on the pistol, trembling. Simon recognized it. It was one of Adalyn's. He briefly remembered it being kicked out of her hand earlier in the fight. The safety was off. The hammer was half-cocked. Simon wanted to stop her. Only he was sure the slightest spook would make her squeeze the trigger.

Maisi grabbed tight onto him. Adalyn had trusted him to take her and Kaylee to safety. Only now...

Adalyn saw the scene from the ground, blood covering most of her face. Her body tensed, "Kaylee...put it down..."

The gun trembled in the mechanic's hands.

The Operative faced her fully, "It would be wise to follow her advice. I do not consider you an enemy. Pulling that trigger will change my mind on the matter."

"Kaylee...go..." Adalyn begged, trying to get her hands and knees under her broken body.

The mechanic dropped to her knees, the gun still trembling in her hands, aiming wildly. The Operative rolled his eyes.

"If you don't have the constitution to fire, then I suggest you leave."

Her aim tightened, her hands continued to tremble. Getting her hands under her finally, Adalyn's prosthetic arm wobbled, the creak of damaged metal making them all wince. Simon tried to take a step closer. His feet were rooted to the spot. He couldn't stop her. He couldn't leave Maisi. He was helpless to stop the woman he loved from shooting a man who wouldn't be touched.

"Kaylee. I need you to leave...please," Adalyn said, rocking back on her heels to get her feet under her a moment later.

They all hoped, waited, looking for the smallest indication that she would retreat and leave the gun behind.

"Shoot me, then!" the Operative yelled.

Kaylee flinched.

Screaming and diverting the Operative's attention, Adalyn charged. He faced her and lashed out with his katana at her midsection. She jumped over it, high and flipping over his head by catapulting on his shoulder. He brought the blade around to meet her when she landed.

She landed on her haunches in front of Kaylee. Her metal hand had grabbed and forced the gun to aim at the ground. Her body was a shield. Her flesh arm was out to the side, keeping the younger women fully behind her.

The tip of the blade was touching her neck.

The Operative stared at them, eyes wide.

"She's not your enemy," Adalyn said softly.

He shook his head, "Weak. Living on the rim and yet without the resolve to kill."

"She has the resolve to _not_ kill!" Adalyn hissed at him.

Pulling his blade tighter to his body and away from vulnerable neck, the Operative could only contemplate them, watching Adalyn's eyes bore into his. He yelped when Jayne tackled him. The katana flew out of his lethal grip when they both hit the ground.

Simon ducked, clutching Maisi to his chest when he was told to. The captain and Zoe, rushing for the commotion, had come bearing arms. Shots fired off in quick succession and it was only Adalyn's voice telling him to run that finally made his feet move. The mule, driven by his sister, had pulled up behind the reinforcements. Climbing in, he turned to see Adalyn guide Kaylee in not a moment later. Just when he thought she would be climbing in herself, River spun the mule around and skittered off, leaving the four of them there.

With Maisi in his arms, he could only look at Kaylee. Her face was blank. Her hands were empty, bereft of deadly metal, but she was still staring at them as though she'd never left the weapon behind.

* * *

Jayne held the cold pack to his face, his busted eye socket more trophy than he bargained for. Walking through the quiet corridors of _Serenity_, he made his way down to the infirmary. Taking the edge of a nagging pain was first on the agenda of things to be done.

They'd all thought they'd be safe on Boros. That the Alliance wouldn't find them on the first free planet in the 'verse. They'd been wrong. That man had found them again. Weren't for the new wave of troops that'd been there to begin with, Jayne had no doubt it would'a ended there with them all dead. As it were, Monty and his boys had been able to run the man off, coming to their aid not too long after River had yanked the Doc and Kaylee outta danger. Didn't mean the damage hadn't done.

He'd seen it, same as the Doc. Kaylee, little Kaylee, holding that gun.

The blue light in the infirmary made him wince against the stark contrast of midnight-ambient lighting. Simon looked up at him when he entered, not saying anything and only reaching for an injector of medicine that'd been used on each of them. Jayne tossed the coldpack into the sink.

"Anything else hurting?" Doc asked.

Jayne shook his head, "No. How's Kaylee?"

The Doc only shrugged, "I don't know. She hasn't really said much."

"Figured as much."

"I can't tell if she's disgusted or relieved. She won't say a word."

"Adalyn try talkin to her?"

"I asked her to. She's putting Maisi to bed first."

"Done the right thing."

The Doc looked at him. He shrugged, "Keeping li'l Kaylee from shootin," he explained.

He nodded, "She did."

"Want I should try'n talk to her?"

"Your call. She's not talking to me, that's for sure. She's in our bunk."

Jayne nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

He turned to leave, bumping into Adalyn. She winced and grabbed onto her left shoulder, smiling afterward to ease his guilt of hitting a tender port.

"Hey."

"You broken?" he asked.

She shrugged, rolling her shoulders, "Sore, is all."

"Gonna talk to Kaylee."

"Okay. I'll be in here. Need a few screws tightened."

He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead before walking on. Leaving his girl with the Doc, he walked his way back up through the dim corridors. Knocking on Kaylee's door before propping it open, he didn't really expect to hear anything. Gal had been quiet the whole time since getting back on the ship. He couldn't say he wasn't surprised.

She was lying on the bed, back facing him. Didn't even roll over when his heavy boots hit the deck plating.

"Kaylee?"

She finally looked at him and, taking record off all his wounds, sat up and wiped away fresh tears off her cheeks. He walked closer and sat on the bed next to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. She didn't cry harder, he was grateful for that. She only seemed to get back to staring at nothing in particular.

"Done the right thing, not shootin."

She scoffed, "Could'a ended it. I didn't"

"Nah, you ain't that good of a shot," he smiled.

"He was right, though. Saying I was weak."

Jayne exhaled hard, his ribs complaining for it, "No. He wasn't," he reached down and took her hands in his, "These hands ain't made for killin. Made for fixin things. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Then...then why does it hurt? Why do I feel like I betrayed everyone?"

"You listen to me, girl. Listen because I ain't keen on sayin this more than once. Ain't a person on this ship thinks that. Most especially not me or Adalyn. Hell, I'd been able to see straight I would'a jumped in front of you myself. You help us all keep kickin. You keep this ship runnin smooth. These hands ain't made for takin lives. Adalyn might be a killer, but she knows that. Knows you're better than the rest of us. She was willin to die to keep you from killin. And she don't toss her life away 'less she believes in somethin."

Her downcast face was dripping new tears onto the pants of her coveralls, "Don't wanna lose anyone else."

"I know."

She leaned into him, sobbing, "Lost Wash, Shepard Book...I don't wanna watch it happen again."

Jayne rested his chin on the top of her head, "Ain't happenin again. You wait'n see."

She continued to cry and he let her. He squeezed her tight around her shoulders, "You'll keep us flyin, girl."

* * *

Simon tightened the screw on Adalyn's backside. She inhaled through clenched teeth, hissing with the pain. Her face was burrowed into the contoured medcot headrest. Mostly to give him better access to her back and partly to smother the occasional yelp from having her shoulder tightened up. The bit of blood seeping from the lip of the port told him just how hard it had been hit earlier in the fight.

He made one final turn and she gasped, her knuckles going white around the edge of the bed. He tossed the screwdriver aside.

"That better?"

She nodded silently, still biting down onto her bottom lip.

He wiped away the thin coat of blood around the port, "You'll need to soak it."

"I know. Thanks."

"Anything else need to be tightened?" he asked lightly.

She sat up, rolling the port and shaking her head when everything felt in place, "Should be enough. At least until the next fight."

"Speaking of—"

"I remember," she said softly, cutting him off.

He stared at her while she looked away from him, back still open to his eyes, "Remember what?"

"My first kill."

He put aside the cloth he'd used to wipe down her port. Her gaze was fixed on something he couldn't see.

"But I wonder...was it really my first kill? I mean, I'd killed on command before that...but doing it without being told to? Without the Alliance pulling the strings...was it _my_ first kill?"

"Who was it?"

"A doctor."

He froze.

"When I was on Yan's ship...There had been a scuffle...planetside...I was shot and they took me to a local doctor. I woke up and he was...talking to me about how much I was worth. Didn't know I could hear him. He planned to get the reward from the Alliance. Fix me up, save my life, and hand me back to the monsters who'd had me. So I reach up, surprised him, and choked him. Yan and his men weren't ever the wiser. I killed him, because I wouldn't go back there."

He offered her the shirt she'd stripped from to get her maintenance done, "And when you woke up...after Roland tortured you..."

She took the shirt, "I tried to choke you."

He sighed, watching her button it back up over her undergarments, "I tried to turn you in once in exchange for my sister's safety. I learned my lesson. But you..."

"Always wondered if you would use me as currency to get yourself and River off the hook."

"I'm sorry."

She offered a tired smile, "I wasn't the one being choked."

"When did you finally trust me? Enough to not choke me, at any rate?"

Exhaling deep, she looked at him, "When you head-butt me. Sparring."

He managed to chuckle, "You do have one strange sense of moral sanctum."

"I couldn't let her do it, Simon."

"I'm glad."

"I let you. I gave you gun. Let you pull the trigger. I couldn't make the same mistake twice."

"I don't think of that as a mistake."

"I do. I robbed you of something. Something I willingly gave up. I should've killed Hamza myself. You never should've been a part of it."

"If you hadn't, I never could've forgiven you. It wasn't your choice to make."

She looked at him, "It was my choice to serve him to you on a silver platter. My choice to give you the gun."

"Thank you."

Her brow furrowed.

"For making her choice for her."


	48. Little Lost Wonders

**A/N: So, I thought I'd take a break from the seriousness and heaviness of the current set of segments. Below are just moments in time: most are self-explanatory on the overall timeline, and they're not really related at all. Each one is only one segment (ie - each page break is the end of a moment). If they're too confusing, PM me. Thanks to "Little Wonders" by Rob Thomas. R&R, please!**

* * *

Zoe and Adalyn shared a glance when the captain started walking by, every intention to invade the engine room etched on his face. The first mate, a Mona-Lisa smile on her face, looked up to him and with every bit of serious warning she could muster, pinned him with her eyes.

"I wouldn't go back there, sir."

Mal glared at her, "My gorram boat, ain't it?"

Zoe simply shrugged and Adalyn hid a smile behind her tea mug. She sipped innocently while Mal stormed off. Bad enough mood he was in already, she and the first mate knew it wouldn't improve when he found the commotion in the engine room. The sound of his angry boots meeting the deck plating one step at a time faded a bit as he walked away from the common.

"___Tian xia suo you duh ren dou gai shr__!"_

Adalyn couldn't help but smile ear to ear. Zoe hung her head, hiding the grin that the assassin knew was there. They both turned to see Mal come storming back through the kitchen, his blushing face and bunched fists sure signs that he'd caught the show.

Adalyn wouldn't meet his eyes, trying like anything to keep from cracking her smile again. Zoe stared at him with that all-knowing look. He stopped at the table, opened his mouth like a codfish, before snapping it shut again and storming back to the sanctity of his cockpit.

Jayne had the misfortune of climbing from his bunk at the same moment Mal brushed past and the bigger man stepped aside, skulking to the kitchen to look at the two women as they contained the bursts of laughter.

"What's that all about?" the merc asked.

Adalyn chucked a thumb back in the direction of the engine room. Jayne looked down the corridor to see the door shut. His confused face gave way to a cockeyed leer.

"Doc and Kaylee havin at it, huh?"

Adalyn only took another small sip of her tea.

* * *

Kaylee bounded down the stairs carrying a large messenger bag full of goodies she'd managed to get at the market. Jayne had said Adalyn was looking for ingredients for dinner and the mechanic had the time to make the trip, so here they were. Asking where the assassin was now, she found herself relieved to hear that she was in her room. Most times she was in her room, the mood was light and easy. That or she was catching a nap while Maisi was across the hall sleeping in her own bunk. Both arms wrapped around her find, she shifted the load to one hip before raising her hand to knock. The sound of Simon's voice, however, made her hesitate.

"You ready?"

"It's hard," Adalyn said tiredly.

"I know it's hard."

"And it'll hurt."

"You're tough. Come on. We've only got until Kaylee gets back."

"I can't believe we're doing this behind her back."

"I wouldn't want to hurt her feelings."

Adalyn sighed, "Fine, I'm ready."

"You sure? I don't think it's lubed enough."

"Yeah, it's fine. It's just slippery; you have to get a good grip on it."

Kaylee knocked.

The sound of a heavy thunk and a few muttered curses made her eyes go wide. She was fighting with her voice when the door slid back and Simon stood there; he was sweaty, his shirt was plastered to his body, and he looked flushed.

"Kaylee..."

"What...what's going on?" She tried to look beyond him into Adalyn's bunk. He was blocking her view.

"We were just..."

"Simon, it's okay. She can see."

Giving a defeated little smile, Simon stepped aside. Kaylee clutched the satchel of goods tighter. Her heart dropped down into her chest.

Then her brow furrowed. Adalyn was missing an arm. The prosthetic was soaking in an oil bath that had obviously overflowed or been splashed...onto Simon. Adalyn rubbed the back of her head with her flesh hand and offered a little smile of her own.

Rolling her eyes, Kaylee smiled and put the bag aside, "You should've told me, silly."

Adalyn looked between her and Simon, "After last time, I didn't think you'd want to reconnect it again."

"Nonsense. I mean, you gotta have your arm, don't'cha? Will showed me how for a reason. Least I can do is follow through. Just wish it didn't hurt you so."

"Nothing to be done about that," Adalyn allowed.

"Well, then, let's reconnect it. Maisi with Jayne?"

"Yeah, he's got her and River in the cockpit. They're playing with flashing lights."

Kaylee smiled again, grabbing the tongs to lift the mechanical arm from the oil bath it was set in. Simon took up his position on the bed behind Adalyn and Kaylee put the arm on the towels on the desk. Rubbing it down to get the excess off, she looked over her shoulder at Adalyn. Her face was placid, calm, digging deep into her wells of strength before the onslaught of fresh electricity.

"You ready?" she asked.

Adalyn nodded.

* * *

Adalyn smiled, laughing as he told his story. She didn't know why it made her laugh, but the idea of Jayne Cobb being afraid to do anything made her interested. She put her cup of tea down, unwilling to spill it.

"You're serious?"

"Dead. Learned my lesson that time."

"But you never kiss them on the mouth?"

"Not a once since."

"Not every woman out there is gonna knock you out, you know."

"Keeps me outta trouble with 'em, too."

"But still, there's bound to be one woman somewhere."

"Nope. Not for me. Besides, you should'a seen the cap'n when his home girl was pulling tricks. She laid him out."

"_Jien tah duh guay_!"

"Knocked him out and took a shuttle. 'Bout near got us all killed. Just one more reason not to kiss 'em on the mouth."

"But that's the best part."

"Ain't seen any o' my girls missing it and there are plenty better places to be kissing."

"Maybe you just don't know how to kiss," she teased.

He straightened, "Like hell. Never heard any complaints."

"That's okay, a lotta guys can't pull it off. It takes a true man to kiss on the lips and make a girl go weak. Besides, some men don't like letting a girl make them go all wishy-washy."

"Oh yeah, like you know so much."

"Happen per chance I do."

"Prove it."

"How, exactly, seeing you don't kiss on the lips?"

He leaned back in his chair and smiled, looking towards the front corridor. She followed his gaze and saw Mal. She restrained an impulsive chuckle and looked back at him, "No way."

"Oh, come on now. Don't be all shy on my account."

She glared at him for a moment. The captain walked into the kitchen and Jayne stayed back in his seat, all reclined and comfortable. Adalyn smiled thinly.

"Fine. But you'll wish it was you."

He smiled, leaning forward. Adalyn felt her stomach toss and turn, but she wasn't about to back down from proving her point. She knew she was good at what she did. So she stood from her chair and walked over to the captain behind the counter. He smiled amiably at her, saying her name simply. She smiled back.

"Captain, I have a question."

He looked between her and Jayne, then back to her, "Go ahead."

"Now, I'm gonna ask you and you have to tell me how you feel about it."

He nodded unsurely, "Okay."

She leaned into him, letting her body sway and melt against his chest. She wrapped her hands under his jaw, bringing him to her lips. She didn't hold back, didn't act polite. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, teasing his own. There was a muffled exclamation of shock, but he didn't pull away. She smiled on the inside, knowing he couldn't resist. The men she chose never could. With her mouth securely locked over his and their tongues dancing, she ran her hands over his neck and down to his chest. She felt his hands give in, holding her arms. She pulled away slowly, letting her lip linger on his for a moment.

Mal fumbled for words, taking his hands from her arms, "Adalyn…I think…you're a real great gal…but there…there ain't…"

Adalyn smiled widely, looking to Jayne just as smugly as he'd looked at her.

"See? Told you."

She walked off, leaving the two of them there to gape. She heard Mal's chopped words and she could picture his face. But, she was content. Showing Jayne what he was missing was all she needed for the moment.

* * *

Lazy days were hard to come by. So when they did happen, many took full advantage. Adalyn sat there at the end of the table, legs using the table for a footrest, hovering over a book she'd managed to pick up. Simon was eating and reading an encyclopedia article, Jayne was polishing pieces just next to Adalyn, and River and Kaylee were playing jacks after pushing the solid table away from the small lounge area while Inara sat, watching like a matron, sipping tea and smiling when the girls scored their points.

It wouldn't last long of course, the silence. Mal and Zoe would come back, bring payment or wounds, and then the day would go on. But the drop was planned to be a long one. Not really anyone kept track of time when it wasn't necessary. So, they all just relaxed. Enjoying silent company.

Jayne hocked on his part and Adalyn winced more than Simon. She looked over the cover of her book, gave him stern eyes, and he pushed away a smile. Simon stared at them, not understanding one bit how they could be so non-verbally successful. River laughed and that caught his attention. The girls were still playing. River was still winning.

Jayne peered over at Simon trying to catch a glimpse of what he was reading, "What's that?"

Simon looked at him for a full moment, "You wouldn't understand it."

"It's about me," Adalyn spoke up.

Simon stared at her. They all did. The Doc's brow furrowed, "How…"

"I can read minds," River said from across the way before dropping her ball to catch jacks.

"No worries, Doc. Gave you those datacards for a reason. Anything interesting?"

Now all eyes were on him save for Adalyn and River. He cleared his throat, "Interesting statistics, but nothing that's polite conversation."

Jayne nudged her, "Not a problem, right? No need for polite conversation."

Adalyn actually smiled. Simon still stayed quiet. Jayne looked at Adalyn with a grin, "Why? It say how many folk you sexed-up and killed?"

Adalyn smiled and Simon couldn't tell if she was angry of amused. She shrugged, "Don't need a card to tell you that."

"You remember your marks?" Simon asked.

"Yeah. Ten years of use, the brain tends to remember things."

"Well, how many?"

"Did I kill or did I sleep with?"

Jayne's grin widened. Simon glared at her and the others just looked on, struck. She shrugged, "Best way to infiltrate a mark. Sleeping with them."

"And? How many?"

"192"

Jayne ran his hand up to her leg, "Including me?"

"You're not a mark."

"Still. Don't wanna be left outta notch count."

"No. Not including you."

"So 193."

"195."

Jayne's brow furrowed and he did the math quick in his head. Simon did too, apparently, because his mouth opened before he clamped it shut.

"So…who're the other two?" Kaylee asked, almost timid.

Adalyn stayed quiet, burying her attention back into the book. Jayne poked her and she ignored him while he pouted.

"C'mon. You gotta tell me who else you grappled with."

Enjoying her power, Adalyn just kept quiet. Jayne nudged her again, "Oh, come on. Do I know 'em?"

"Maybe."

"Well, spill it girl. Gotta know who's been your notch before me."

"More to point: you keep track? Of both your marks and your…conquests?" Simon asked, mildly amused and disgusted.

"Surely do. But don't worry, boy, you'll make it up some other way."

Kaylee snickered and Simon glared. Jayne gave a little chuckle, too. Simon rolled his eyes and scrolled through more information on the subject. Mostly she didn't mind, but Adalyn smiled and pushed the chair back a bit so it was standing on the back two legs.

Jayne poked her and she chuckled, "Not telling."

"More fun to keep secrets," River smiled, too.

Jayne's brow raised and he stared at his girl, "Was she one of 'em?"

Simon looked at his sister before turning to glare at Adalyn, "What?"

"What? No! I'm not ambi."

Jayne pouted, "Gorrammit, then who were the others?"

"Jayne, put your gun back together," she said with a smile.

* * *

Mal didn't like where she was leading him. He didn't like the idea of it, nor what she was bringing him to do. And she was still. Too still for his liking. He wanted her to be as nervous as he was. But she just waited for him to catch up with a patiently understanding smile. He didn't want to keep going. He didn't know where it would end up. He couldn't help but remember her on his lap, and the last time he'd let himself fall so deep. It had been easier then. A good deal of sake and her willingness had let him fall. And he'd loved it.

But this wasn't him bedding her. This wasn't him drunk. He didn't want to cross any more lines or find himself on the receiving end of Jayne's fist. But Adalyn waited for him patiently. And her face was too gentle for him to not do what she was trying to get him to do.

He nodded, not willing to vocalize for fear that his voice would give. He raised the gun at her, his finger away from the trigger. It was loaded, his favorite pistol, and he had it aimed at her.

"You have to trust me."

He nodded.

"You're not trusting me, Mal. Just let go."

"Bit harder to do than say."

"Because you think you're going to hurt me. You can't think that."

"How can I not? You're asking me to aim a gun at your head."

"Aim. Not shoot. You don't have to shoot."

He knew why they were doing this. He knew why it was important for them to get over this bridge. With the chances of him being outshot at the tournament, he wouldn't have a chance to hit the stash. But if he could stay in the running long enough, he could finish this job and get the payday that was owed to him and his crew.

He started to feel her. It wasn't anything arousing, but it wasn't natural. Feeling his muscles tense and move without his mind doing the work. But he didn't want this. He couldn't watch his gun aim at her without feeling responsible for it.

"Mal. You have to give in."

He lowered his gun, "How? You got any idea on how? 'Cause I'm drawing some fairly considerable blanks."

She walked over to him, moving herself out of the line of fire. She saddled up next to him, taking his hand in hers and raising the gun again. Her hand wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to take a loose, somehow firm grip of the gun.

"When you have the gun out, what do you think you're going to fire at?"

"Huh?"

"A target. A person. What?"

"A person."

"Why a person?"

"Tends to be the usual thing to hit."

"But you don't get nervous when you fire on others? If they're hurting you and your crew?"

"No. They got it coming."

"So why are you nervous aiming the gun at me?"

"You ain't one of them."

"No. I'm worse. I could reap more hurt on your crew than any of those thugs you shoot. Don't fool yourself. So don't think. Just hold the gun out."

"I still don't see why I'm aiming at you. You ain't the target at the tourney."

"But you have to trust me enough for me to get you through the rougher challenges in the tournament. This is the biggest hurdle. If you can trust me when you're aiming the gun at me, you can trust me when I'm on the sidelines."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't. I can promise you that. But you have to give in and let yourself lose control. I'll catch you, remember? Always."

Her warm breath ran over his neck and shoulder, drawing him closer to a shiver. One hand of hers was on his back, the other was shadowing his outstretched arm, her grip and his over the gun. He relaxed against her. She smiled, he could see that much as she stood behind him.

"We can try this again."

She walked over to the void she'd been standing in before, watching him sympathetically. He kept the gun aimed at her, his heart slowing and his sweaty palm starting to dry. He inhaled. He felt her mind in him again, moving his aim a little this way, a little that way.

He closed his eyes, not wanting to see what she was making him aim at. His hand moved as he let her take control. He found himself peaceful, not feeling anything besides her control over him. His finger moved to the trigger, squeezing it.

The gun fired four times in a row, moving between each shot.

He opened his eyes.

The old wooden structure Adalyn had been standing in front of showed where the bullets had hit. One on each side of her neck, one over her head, and one between her legs. He smiled, lowering the gun.

"Guess that solves that."

"Do it again."

"What?"

"Again. Get used to relinquishing control. It'll make it easier at the tournament."

He sighed heavily, raising his gun again. He closed his eyes.

"Don't close your eyes. Look at me."

He pried his eyes open, seeing that innocent face. His gun was still outstretched. He didn't want to watch. But having closed eyes at the tournament wouldn't solve any problems.

His hand started moving again. She didn't look like she was doing anything, and yet his hand was moving slowly, deliberately. His finger moved to the trigger and squeezed once. He didn't flinch. The bullet hit the building under her hand. She didn't flinch, either. She let him lower the gun.

"See? You can do this. It's all about letting go."

* * *

It was quiet, for once. Adalyn could sleep. She rolled onto her side, tucking her arm under her head for a makeshift pillow. It wasn't like there wasn't a bed nearby, but the floor was comfortable and getting up took too much effort. It would mean pushing herself to her hands and knees before ever getting to her feet, dragging said feet across the room before plopping heavily onto the spring bed. Too much work.

The sound of the ladder door swinging down gently still made her wake up and she tried her damnedest to ignore it, to get back to peaceful deafness. Heavy boots, heavier breaths, all too loud to allow the hopeful rest she wanted.

Jayne picked her up off the floor. She smiled and let him. He coddled her to his broad chest, carrying her like a baby. She felt the soft bed under her and smiled when he put her down, following to spoon behind her. He wrapped a calloused hand over her side, under her chest before taking her hand in his.

"Sorry. Didn't mean t'wake ya," he whispered.

She just hummed contently. He nuzzled her neck, his stubble reminding her of the small stack of dishes she'd fallen asleep before doing.

"_Ji dian le_?" she yawned.

"Close t'three in the morning. How long you been able to sleep?"

"An hour, maybe."

He nuzzled her again, kissing her neck and she could feel him smile, "Plenty of time to rest up," he whispered.

She smiled back. Intimacy. She'd forgotten the beautiful simplicity of being able to sleep next to him, with him, whenever they saw fit. He continued to kiss her and damn him if he wasn't kissing all the right spots that made her want to wake up enough to keep going.

The small plea stopped her, and Jayne, and she sighed. She started to roll, expecting to leave the bed that he'd so tenderly placed her on.

"I'll get her."

She let her head plop back down and Jayne left her to retrieve the small toddler in the cot across the room. She rolled over, watching her man pick their daughter up softly, cooing and getting her to calm. He put her on the bed in front of her before squeezing himself on the edge of the bed. Their daughter sucked her little fist, calming with the warmth of two bodies near her.

"So much for a night," Jayne smiled softly at her.

"She's stubborn. Like her daddy."

He wrapped an arm around their daughter, watching her intently, "Wouldn't have it any other way."

**

* * *

**

**Thanks! A continuation of the crew's plight against another Operative shall continue after this...**


	49. Lost Enemies

He stared at her. Downtrodden eyes, metal hand cradling a glass. Flesh fingers combed through her daughter's hair as the girl slept in her mother's lap. Another close brush with death had made even the child snuggle closer to the crew. She'd refused to let go of her mother for the last few hours. And that was only after they'd pried her tiny fists from Simon's shirt earlier.

"He'll keep coming, Mal."

He watched her. She wouldn't meet his gaze, "Know that."

"How much more do you think this crew can take?"

He tried to smile, "Give us some credit. Ain't like we've been ramshod yet."

"It's only a matter of time. He's relentless."

"Well, don't see many options. Running's still the best bet."

She finally looked him in the eyes, "You could let me go."

His knuckles went white around his own cup and he stared back at her, trying desperately to keep his voice even when he spoke, "That's not an option."

She looked down at her child in her lap, "I'm not worried about her being alone. But I think everyone else is."

"Addy..."

"If I stay, he'll kill all of you. Who would she have, then?"

"You're not leaving. This is our fight, too."

"He's only after me. Not River. Not Simon. Not you or Zoe. Just me. It's my fight. You need to let me fight it."

"Yeah, 'cause you done so well fighting him the last two times he showed up."

"I kept him from killing any of you. I think that's a win."

He put aside the coldpack he'd been holding to the back of his head, "No."

"Mal..."

"Decision's made."

"Kaylee almost killed a man today. I don't want that to ever happen. I don't ever want her thinking she's responsible for saving me. I don't think you do, either."

He stayed quiet for a long moment, staring into the bottom of his cup and beyond. He couldn't let her go. If he did, it'd be the same as running up the white flag while sacrificing the lamb. That was something he wouldn't do. Wouldn't ever do. He couldn't let her leave again. She'd only just gotten back.

"Decision's final, Addy."

She inhaled, exhaled, and let go of the cup, taking Maisi up in both her arms. Mal watched her leave the table, sure she wasn't willing to let the conversation get any more heated while the child slept. Leaving him there alone, it was all he could do to not throw the ceramic cup across the room just for the sole satisfaction of seeing it shatter.

He couldn't let her leave. And he couldn't let her keep walking away from him.

He started after her, leaving the cup there on the table. Walking down the stairs towards her bunk and Maisi's, he found her already out in the common, her PSR on her back. Peering into the ajar bunk, he saw Maisi curled up and under the sheet.

Adalyn was walking for the cargo bay door. He chased after her.

"You're not leaving."

"It's not your choice anymore, Mal."

"Yes, it is, dammit!"

"I can't let her lose everyone. It's bad enough she has to lose me."

He grabbed her arm and yanked, "You leave now, everything we done over the last three years goes to waste. They win. I ain't 'bout to let you throw it all away like that."

She scoffed, "Throw it all away? Is that what you think I'm doing? I'm saving everything I've lived for. I've killed too many people. I refuse to add my friends and child to the list."

She yanked her arm out of his grip and unlocked the cargo bay door. Swingin it open, Mal had to jerk back so it wouldn't hit him, he was so close to her, "You're not—"

The Operative was standing there, eyeing them with a hand raised to knock on the very door Addy had swung open.

Mal drew his gun and aimed it at his dark forehead. Adalyn, unsure, just looked between them. The Operative lowered his hand and folded it at the small of his back with the other, placidly smiling at them both.

Mal cocked the hammer, "Said if'n I ever laid eyes on you again, I'd kill you."

Adalyn's brow furrowed, "You know him?"

"Him that came after us the first time around. Gave me and mine a peck of trouble."

"And, I assured you then, Captain, there is nothing left to see of that man."

Adalyn put her hand on Mal's gun, lowering its aim to the deck, "Mal..."

"Don't tell me you know him, too."

"He was at the Academy...when I first got there."

Mal harrumphed, "How come everyone we meet from your past wants to kill us?"

She disarmed his gun, never looking at him, only at the Operative, "If he wanted to kill us, we'd be dead already. He's not here for that."

Mal rolled his eyes, "Do you mind taking a hike, then? We're kinda busy."

The Operative sighed and looked to Adalyn, "If you leave now, you will not survive."

"Well, at least the murderer agrees with me."

"You have to be willing to take on more than just him; then you may stand a chance."

Mal stared at him incredulously for a moment, "_Shen ma_? You suggesting she actually try to end this on her own?"

He started to move forward. Mal raised his gun again and this time it touched the man's ebony forehead.

"You step one foot on this boat and you die. Do I make myself clear?"

He gave a tired, defeated little smile, "Perfectly, Captain."

Adalyn looked between them. She ducked under Mal's outstretched arm and walked past the Operative. Mal gaped.

"You're choosing him over us?"

"I'm trying to keep you all safe."

"You run now, your daughter's an orphan."

She halted, "I don't and she loses everything. Not great options if you ask me."

"As Miss Santayana has said, Captain, I am here to help."

"I think you best be leaving before I decide to end you."

"How?" Adalyn asked.

The Operative faced her, "Beg your pardon?"

"How can you help?"

"I can give you the ammunition necessary to bring down the Alliance. As well as the Operative that chases you now. But, to do so, I will have to step foot on this ship," he cast a glance back at Mal.

The captain chewed on the inside of his cheek, readjusting his grip on his pistol. Adalyn looked at him, plaintive. She took a step back towards the boat, never caring that her back was to the Operative.

"We're out of options, Mal."

"This ain't one of 'em."

"If there's even a chance—"

"He's not coming on this boat."

The Operative remained quiet while he and Adalyn stared at each other. Her eyes were tired, worn. His were all manner of angry. His pistol, for the great shot he usually was, was trembling same as it were in Kaylee's hands. He chewed on the inside of his cheek more, not surprised to taste metallic liquid. All Adalyn wanted was to keep them safe. She was willing to trust a man from the very machine that'd made her if it meant having a chance at ending this fight once and for all.

Wash.

Book.

This man had been the one to get them killed. He'd been the one to chase them 'til there was no other way but into the heart of Miranda's secret. They could've just run like they'd always done, wait out the storm. He hadn't given them the chance.

He heard the familiar sound of the sawed-off shotgun his first mate carried being pumped. He looked over his shoulder to see Zoe with her shotgun to her front, aiming at the man that stood before them.

"You got until I get bored," she said sternly.

"Zoe," Mal warned.

She met his eyes, "Don't even think you get first crack at him."


	50. Those Who Choose to Be Lost

River sat there, watching. Her voice didn't matter anymore. Simon and Jayne had taken hers and Adalyn's away. So she, and Adalyn, just sat. Arms crossed. Eyes down. Because options weren't so shiny in the light of day. Threats were harder to ignore. So River and Adalyn just sat quiet while the ones they loved fought over their decisions. They shared a glance every now and then, not saying anything and not fighting the shouts to have their own voices heard. Everyone, even Kaylee, had a bit to say about the plan and just what it entailed. Jayne and Simon were just being the most vocal. And Adalyn almost smiled. Jayne was fighting for her and she wasn't even sure if she wanted, or needed, him to.

"Ain't no gorramn way she's goin in there alone!"

"My sister isn't the one being hunted! I don't see any reason to change the status quo. If she—"

"Your sis got us into this the last time! Only fair she help bail us out this time—"

"--goes in there, you're asking her to be a fugitive again. I won't let—"

"--seein as how Adalyn's saved your skin—"

"Simon...she doesn't have to go..."

"No reason to think this man's gonna let up just like that."

"--you turn her into some sidekick on a suicide mission!"

"I don't like the idea of them being there alone to begin with, let alone with..."

"--more'n half-dozen time without ever being asked to."

"Mommy?"

Adalyn turned in her seat. The shouts instantly subsided. Maisi, rubbing her eyes, was standing at the threshold of the kitchen. At the sight of her daughter's tears, the assassin stood and quickly scooped her up, shhshing her and swaying gently.

"Don't like the fighting, mommy."

"I know, sweetie. I know. It's okay now."

"We gon' fly?"

Adalyn nodded, her child nestling up to her chest and neck, "Yeah. We're going to fly real soon. You'll see."

Jayne started towards them, hands out to help coddle the small girl. Adalyn turned away, walking back down the stairs the way her daughter had climbed up. Jayne watched them go, unsure. They were all quiet for a moment before Simon exhaled deeply, hands on his hips and eyes to the deck.

"River needs to be here; not running around an Alliance broadcaster."

Jayne turned sharply to the doctor, "Like that, wouldn't ya? Keep lil' sis from the world just 'cause you don't feel like takin a stand."

Kaylee held her hands out placatingly, "We don't need to decide on this right now. We already woke Maisi up."

"Nonetheless, I would advise coming to a conclusion on the matter. The Alliance will not rest until she is caught.

They all stopped, staring at the dark-skinned Operative that had, until now, remained quiet and observing.

"We send you," Simon quipped.

The man almost smiled, "I do wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, the plan we've outlined does require at least two for it to succeed. I think we all agree that Adalyn is imperative to its success. While I could go and be the second arm of the team, her and Miss Tam are designed to work together. They have been wired to each other. Their minds would give them an advantage that Miss Santayana and I would not have alone."

"Don't think I'm alone to say that I ain't even swallowed the whole bit where we're all supposed to just sit behind and wait," Mal spoke up.

"Admirable as it is, Captain, you and your crew would be useless if you charged into battle with her. Either killed outright for lack of usefulness, or procured as a hostage to drag Miss Santayana down. You would, all of you, only weaken her."

River watched Mal. It looked like he was swallowing glass. Jayne had the same reaction while Kaylee and Inara looked relieved. Zoe, her sawed-off still crossing her chest, remained blank. As if he knew he was being watched, Mal looked River and met her eyes, searching as they were. He exhaled deep, arms crossed on his chest.

"What about you, li'l albatross?" he asked tiredly.

River looked straight back at him, her face collected and lucid, her voice delicate, "Three is the number of holy trinity. Of beliefs. Symbols have meaning in the Book. One to distract. One to navigate. One to announce."

"River..." Simon started.

"She protected me, Simon. Now I protect her."

* * *

Mal pushed aside the sliding door without waiting to see if he was allowed in. Because sometimes, when she didn't say she needed it, was the time when she wanted it. If there was anything the last three years had taught him, it was that Adalyn never admitted to much unless you were looking to her eyes. The angry shouts in the common were subsiding. The heated air between Simon and Jayne was starting to roll away.

They'd all known it would come to something like this.

Mal sat down next to her, watching her while she cradled her sleeping daughter in her lap. She never spared him a look, just confessed.

"I'm scared."

"Can't say I'd expect it any other way."

"This could work. It could make our lives easier, but..."

"You'd have to be the thing you ain't ever wanted to be."

She gave a sardonic little chuckle, "Ironic that's what it takes."

"Do you want this?"

"No. But I don't think I have much choice."

He sighed, "Addy..."

"It feels like drowning. It feels like I'm back under that lake. Like sinking."

"If you say you trust him, I'll follow the lead, but I don't see how you being a monster is gonna solve anything. That man got...he caused a lot of hurt reaped on this crew."

"I know. And I can understand if you don't want to be a part of this."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shocked at the coldness of her left, "You need me to catch you, Addy. How could I not?"

She gave a tired little smile.

* * *

She just sat there. The Operative was sitting across from her, watching her through closed eyelids. She looked so peaceful. Like she'd found some inner sanctum. Mal lounged there, watching them both. He still didn't trust the man and being around all the time helped him cope with that. Most especially since Adalyn was doing this not entirely of her own free will.

The box he was leaning on shifted. He readjusted his weight before he realized it wasn't the weight what had shifted it. He stood straighter, watching the box lift from the stack. The Operative opened his eyes, his gaze on Adalyn all the more obvious. Another box across the way lifted, followed by the canister of extra oxygen and a crate. Jayne's bench, his weights, they all lifted off the deck. Mal walked closer, behind Adalyn, while she continued to lift everything that wasn't bolted down save for him.

"Addy."

"She can't hear you."

"Stop it. Whatever you're doing to her."

"I'm not doing anything."

Air tanks, rope, screwdrivers, wrenches, air cannon injectors, crates, boxes, canisters, loose plating, weight clips…they all floated aimlessly at head height and lower off the deck. And Adalyn was in the middle of it all. She stood, arms down and relaxed at her side. She stood, looked dead ahead and that was when Mal took a huge step forward to keep from being hit as the objects started to circle the three of them.

He touched her shoulder, "Addy."

Her grip on his wrist was a vice. She was squeezing hard enough to make his bones shift and he stood his ground, unwilling to let this overcome her.

"Stop it! You're better than this. Stooping to that level ain't gonna help you win this."

His wrist damn near snapped when she turned to face him. Her eyes were blank, her hand still bestially tight around his flesh.

"She needs this. Perfect tranquility," the Operative stood behind her, watching, hands ever folded behind his back.

Mal winced at the tight grip, "Don't look too tranquil."

"To enter a higher state without provocation, to become a weapon, to control the triggering mechanism…these are all things she must accomplish if she wishes to become a challenger to the Alliance. She must learn to become a weapon without fear of consequence."

Her grip tightened and she yanked down. He went to his knees but still didn't resist her grip. His teeth grit, his muscles tightened and every reflex screamed for him to strike her. But he waited. The circling objects spun 'round faster so even if he'd gotten away he wouldn't go far from the grip anyhow. He looked her in the eyes. She was looking at him but he doubted she was seeing him any bit at all. He swallowed down the pain when she tightened her grip again. What end this was serving he didn't know but this was unlike any other time she'd been triggered. She was in control and she was displaying just how.

She let go of his wrist. He yanked it back to his chest, looking up at her. She finally seemed to see him. But her features were still strung.

Mal ducked at the flash of metal and found himself at the edge of her ring of circling objects. But she hadn't tried to attack him. She'd faced the Operative. Their katanas clashed and he tried to throw her off balance. At his push, she leaned back to handstand and went to a kneel after righting herself again, her blade tucked tight between body and arm. She was perfectly poised, one arm out in balance with a knee down and a knee up. Her bowed head looked up and Mal caught sight of her eyes. They were nothing but pupils. No color, just black and white.

The Operative looked down at her, that same precision and calm that still made Mal feel uneasy.

"You cannot win."

She catapulted, spinning forwards and landing with her sword out. He blocked and she lunged to the side, her body parallel to the deck. Her momentum carried her over again and she landed on her feet, katana out to the side. It came up, across and back down and the moment the swing was done she cartwheeled forward on one hand, the other holding the katana tight.

He wanted to ask just how exactly she'd developed the proficiency in acrobatics but she seemed a bit more than busy. Between the circling thingies and her slash-slash-slash with the Operative, she wasn't about the take time to answer. She continued to launch herself fancifully, never staying on her feet for more than a second. The katana had become a second hand, her body more agile than he'd ever seen it. Usually she was more like Jayne, battering those who got in her way. He'd never once seen her so graceful.

She jumped over the circling objects and landed on the railing of the staircase. The Operative followed, slashing his way through the objects he could. From his circular cell, Mal could watch her continue to out-maneuver the man that had once beaten him without second thought or effort. He was on the stairs, following her. His own katana was a blur, hitting hers and sending sparks flying. He managed to send her off balance and she jumped from the railing, catching the rim of the mule with her hand. Her other hand slammed the katana into the rubber bumper on the side of it. She used it like a bar, gathering momentum for a jump to another rail across on the catwalk. The Operative ran up and met her. Again he stayed on the flat while she stayed on the rail. She leaned over backwards to avoid a blow and she let herself fall back.

Mal wanted to catch her until he saw her ankles catch on the bottom rail before she bent her knees and grabbed Jayne's hand grips on the bottom of the catwalk, her arms crossed. Her ankles let go and her legs came forward under her body. Her body spun so her arms were uncrossed and she was facing him. Her knees latched onto the edge of the walkway. Her hands let go and she grabbed with one hand onto the top rail and lifted herself up, grabbing with the other to knab his katana. The Operative hadn't time to react. For all the complexity, the feat had been done in less than a second.

He fell over the railing, landing on top of the circling objects before breaking through and thudding on the deck. Adalyn stood, watching, her eyes still black as space. The objects stopped spinning and she jumped, the katana touching the Operative's forehead without damage. She stood, her head bowed, her eyes closed, and she kept the man pinned by only the tip of the metal blade.

Mal waited before going closer. She looked level and Mal found her eyes. They were soft and human. She sheathed the katana and stood there. He wanted to ask how she had done it all and all so quick. But that was before he saw a tear trailing down her cheek. He watched it hit the deck, splattering through the grate. She closed her eyes again, that tear evidently the only one. He took himself closer.

"Addy. You shiny?"

She just walked away, ignoring his pleading voice.


	51. Lost Machines

Zoe watched him. She'd volunteered. She'd asked, more was the case. This man, she was sure, could out-fight her. Out-maneuver her. Out-wit her. But she still had to watch him. His placid face was unbreakable. His demeanor irrevocable. He was everything they'd fought against in days past. He was the epitome of what could've happened to Adalyn.

He looked to her, the chains on his wrists keeping his hands against the walls. For all Adalyn had protested, the man himself hadn't put up a bit of fight. Instead, he cooperated. He worked with them. Just like Adalyn, he knew exactly what he could and couldn't do. Gave them instructions on how to chain him just so...

So damn honest it made her want to throw the butt of her shotgun across his face.

"You judge me," he said quietly.

"Damn right I do."

"I am sorry for your loss."

The urge to hit him was too strong, too suddenly overpowering. Her mind didn't have the willpower to overcome her sense and the wooden end of the shotgun ran past his face, slamming against his cheekbone and brow. Face turned away, blood seeping from a new gash, he exhaled deeply.

"I can understand your rage. I took something very dear to you."

She stood over him, watching, "You have no idea what you took from me."

"Your husband of three years. Hoban Washbourne. Graduated second in his class for piloting—"

"You don't know him. Don't even think you know him."

He looked at her, "No. I suppose I don't know him."

"I lost my husband because of you. I'll be damned if you take my seargent, too."

His brow furrowed ever so slightly, his calm facade quaking by the anger in her voice, "I'm afraid I don't understand."

She smiled angrily, "You let Adalyn or River die, you'll be killing him same as you did my husband."

He almost smiled, "I see."

"Do you? Do you really get it? Because I think you're a little detached to get it. Too much of an Alliance machine to see what those girls mean to us."

"They're your freedom."

She hesitated. Her knuckles gripped white around the shotgun.

"For everything you and Captain Reynolds have lost, you see gained by their very survival. Indeed, for two young women to have the keys that will destroy an entire regime, they mean everything to me, as well."

"You think you can be free?"

"Judge me: all I ask is you think of me as a human. Not some machine."

"You're no human. You're just a walking weapon."

"So is Adalyn."

"She's got emotions."

"Only because her training was never completed. But believe me when I say it's only a shallow level of humanity that defines her from me."

Zoe scoffed, "You really think we believe you? You don't know my husband. You don't know Adalyn. All you've got is dates, facts. What we know is what makes them humans. Makes them not like you."

"But only like me can she and Miss Tam compete with the Alliance. The Alliance is made of humans, too. To defeat them, you have to forsake humanity."

They stared at each other. The blood from his brow had dripped down his face, following the dark skin down his neck to stain the deep green shirt he wore. Zoe could only stare at him. He was...honest. He was what might've happened to her or Mal if things had turned out different. She sat, her gun still tight in her hands. He looked inside himself, eyes never focusing on anything beyond them. He was still, lifeless. She could remember being that numb. Loading shells into her sawed-off, waiting for the Reavers to come for them. Stacking crates for cover she didn't want.

She had wanted to die.

Even with her friends, her crew, behind her and Mal waiting with an unspoken promise that he wouldn't let her husband's death be in vain, she wanted to die. She wanted to see her husband again.

He'd done his job. Fly the ship. Get them safe.

She'd done her job. Guard the entrance. Keep them stalled.

"You're crying," he said quietly.

She snapped to attention, looking at him and feeling the truth of his words as it trailed alone down her cheek. They stared at each other for a long, silent moment. He looked as if he'd inhaled and exhaled deep even though there wasn't a single sound.

"I cannot gaurantee Miss Santayana's safety. I cannot assure that of Miss Tam, either. All I can provide is the chance to give back to the Alliance what they've dealt you. You must decide for yourself what risk that is worth."

"Ain't my decision."

"You say that with clarity."

"Truth. Adalyn's gonna do whatever she wants. Hell if we try and stop her."

This time, he did crack a smile, knowing and gentle, "Yes, she is stubborn."

"Do you really think this will work?"

"I think there is too great a chance of it working to be pushed aside."

She shook her head, sarcastic dimples pecking each side of her face, "It won't change what you took from us. Doubt it'll even make a difference to me if you come back dead or alive."

"I do not ask for forgiveness. There is no piece of me that believes anything of that sort. What I do believe is that I must do this. I must help Miss Santayana and Miss Tam in any way possible. I must serve my purpose. To what end, I do not know. There is a clarity that comes with being a tool of the Alliance. Miss Santayana has touched that clarity. So has Miss Tam. Perfect, pure, absolute knowledge of the role being played. It is that clarity which frightens them, draws them. In such a state, they are not themselves. They are everything the Alliance trained them to be. And it scares them that being in that state is more secure than not being in it. That is why they object to it. Miss Tam is farther from that borderline than Miss Santayana. Hence her...lack of lucidity."

"And Adalyn? She more'a machine? Like you?"

"Her training is complex. So much ingrained into who she is, that she and her subliminal instincts are inseparable. Unlike Miss Tam, she is wholly aware of what she can do and can become. She was trained to be an assassin. A companion. A doctor. A soldier. Her brain holds every etiquette on every world, every tactful measure to complete a mission. Her body has been conditioned to fight however she sees fit. Even when not triggered, she has vast archives of skill and understanding that no normal person could ever hope to decipher. Her mind has been so well shaped that being triggered absolves her of morality and compassion, singling her goal into a focused, instinctual need. She has within her the power to bring a city to its knees, crumbling to death all who reside without mercy or insecurity. Being triggered sends her into a state of mental disarray so powerful that she is capable of killing even well-known acquaintances, loved ones, friends, without hesitation. She was designed to be a weapon. The Alliance created her to destroy. Miss Tam was a threat to their power. Miss Santayana is a threat to their very existence. A weapon of her caliber in the wrong hands could mean the demise of worlds, not just cities or people. Whole worlds, gone, by her will."

"I've seen her stop herself," a new voice said, the owner stepping over the threshold of the bunk and leaning against the door.

Zoe straightened, looking between the Doc and the Operative.

Simon glared at the chained man, his face harder and more set than Zoe could ever remember it, "I've seen her trigger herself. I've seen her stop herself. She's not just some brainless weapon."

"And you honestly believe she would be able to control that temperament if she were drugged?"

"She's done it before," Zoe said, remembering all too well how Mal had been thrown around like a rag doll in their own cargo bay.

"Whatever you may have seen her succumb to, it is nothing compared to the triggering mechanisms still open and awaiting instruction. Like a fortress, her mind has many levels of deactivation. And there are some chasms not even the Alliance would dare cross."

* * *

Adalyn and River were hunched over the kitchen table, Adalyn bouncing Maisi on her hip while surveying the schematics that had been laid out. River, her mind working faster, pointed to the junction that would serve as their crutch.

"This one," she said.

"It'll be difficult to reach," Adalyn allowed.

"But not impossible," the Operative countered.

"Which means, if I push the envelope, I could crash the shuttle only four floors down. There're enough redundancy systems to keep that area safe," the assassin sighed.

Mal, rubbing his eyes, stopped dead when he stepped down the small stairs into the kitchen, "What in the hell are you doing?" he asked softly, the clearest intent of a threat in his voice.

Adalyn looked up at him, "We're scheming."

"And why ain't the rest of us involved in this?"

"Because the rest of you aren't going."

He bristled, "Addy..."

Still bouncing Maisi on her hip, she met his glare, "Mal, not in front of her," she said, shifting her eyes to the child on her hip. Said child, oblivious to the friction, was bashing two dinosaurs together and making gurgling sounds.

"And yet you feel perfectly fine discussing a suicide mission in front of her."

"She doesn't know what suicide is, Mal. That's not a valid arguing point."

"Addy...you're not going into that place alone."

"I know. River and he are coming with me."

"I seem to recall there being some opposition to that fact as well."

The Operative stood a little straighter, "Captain, there is little these women could do without me on that station."

"They could do just fine if we all went along for the ride."

"Until you were all used as blackmail."

"He's right, Mal. We need to do this. You can't come with us."

"Unlike any of us, Miss Santayana could walk onto that station and be met without resistance. Without interrogation. They will welcome her with open arms. And more than that, they will think she's doing it to protect all of you."

"So me crashing a shuttle into the station won't blip their minds a bit. They won't see it coming."

"To believe lies, there has to be a facsimile of truth in the logistics. Can't just decide. Have to be forced to the decision," River said.

Adalyn nodded, "We'll have to let them get one last good lick at us before I surrender myself. So, one final stand..."

"Beylix," Mal said suddenly.

Adalyn, River and the Operative all looked up at him. He shrugged, crossing arms over his chest, "We'll have enough of a time getting there, but we'll be easy to find without it looking obvious. 'Side from that, we'll have enough backup with the local factions if'n things get outta hand."

Adalyn nodded again, looking at Maisi while resuming the bounce, "You think that sounds good?"

"Gon' see Will?"

"You know, that's not a bad idea, sweetie."

"Your arm's still working," Mal pointed out.

"But it would be good to get an upgrade before going against that katana. That's still something the Alliance doesn't know about, right?" she looked to the Operative.

He shook his head, "They only know of your association with this crew. Nothing beyond that. Not your daughter, either."

"So, you'll be safe," she rubbed noses with her daughter, smiling.

Mal sighed, "Li'l albatross, get us to Beylix. Weave, but leave a trail for the _hwoon dahn_ to follow."

River looked once more at Adalyn before walking past the captain and onwards to the bridge. The Operative, hands folded behind his back, sighed.

"Do you think you can survive another assault?" he asked Adalyn.

"I'll need to make a wave first."

She walked back through the rear corridor. Mal had no doubt she was heading for the comm in the infirmary. He was left standing there, watching the Operative. He was calm, placid. His eyes traveled over the schematics once more.

"You really think something like this will work?" Mal asked

"I hope it does. I will be able to walk in without question because of my status. Miss Tam, they will not bother. It is Miss Santayana who is their quarry. I think that as long as that wave is broadcasted, this will be considered a success."

"Never mind if you get the two of 'em killed, right?"

"There is always a risk inherent with something worth doing."

"You come back without them, I will kill you."

The Operative stared him in the eyes, "If they die, it is because I am already dead."

"You really gonna sacrifice yourself for them?"

"I will do whatever is necessary to protect them. I'm sure you would do the same. Otherwise they would not be so devoted to keeping you and this crew safe."

Mal stood there, judging him, watching him. How a man could be that calm and never flustered, he didn't know. Didn't know if this was all some trap. Or if the three of them really would be coming back.

They would find out on Beylix.

* * *

Adalyn closed the link, Maisi still on her hip and still bashing those dinosaurs together. She was grateful Zoe had given them to the child a month or so back. Now, her daughter wouldn't let them out of her sight.

Will, irate as he was that she was planning on doing something so wreckless, was more than happy to make the trip to Beylix for the upgrade. She wasn't sure if she was happy or terrified that he'd been making heavier, more hand-to-hand ready models for her. But she needed something heavier. Something that could take and give blows. This arm, great as it was, wasn't more than an arm. She needed a weapon.

"Screen's blank," Jayne said.

She smiled, "Yeah. Happens when you turn it off."

"Who you talkin' to?"

Maisi smiled, giggled, making the dinosaurs attack the newest occupant of the room. Jayne idly fought back, his gaze more intent on Adalyn.

"Will. Asked him to meet us at Beylix. Need a better arm."

"Why's that?"

"I'm going back up against the Operative."

Jayne's brow furrowed.

She shook her head, "No, the other one."

The confusion gave way to anger, "You wanna run that by me again?"

"We're going to lure him to Beylix. Let him think he's got us. Then I'll turn myself in. It's the easiest way to broadcast that wave."

"You...are..."

"Jayne, I need to do this."

"No! You don't!"

She stared at him, wide-eyed for the yell. Maisi retracted her warring dinosaurs and clasped tight onto her mother, lip quivering.

Jayne's face immediately softened, "Sorry, baby-girl..." he reached gently for her and she flinched, burying her face into Adalyn's shoulder.

"You know I don't mean t'yell. I'm sorry..."

There was a little sniffle. Jayne gently wrapped his large hand around her small one, making the dinosaurs start attacking each other again. The outburst almost forgotten, Maisi gave a little giggle and started to fight back.

Adalyn just looked down while Jayne made their daughter laugh again.

"You know I just don't wanna lose you again," he said, eyes on her while he played with Maisi.

"I know. And I don't really want to go. But I have to. This is something I have to do. They turned me into a weapon. It's time I fight them with it."

"Beylix, huh?"

"Mal thought it'd be best to make a last stand there. At least you all would have some backup if things got really bad."

"We could just run, Adalyn. No need to face them on this."

"Yes, we could run. But for how long? They won't stop until they have me."

"You think this'll solve everything?"

She gave a weak smile, "One way or the other. You know...I never..."

"You don't gotta tell me."

She looked at him, blank.

"I know she's mine," he lifted Maisi from her hip and transferred her to his own before walking off.

Adalyn just stood there.

* * *


	52. A Lost Long While

She was stiff. No. Beyond stiff. Painfully tight. That was the better way to describe it. And it was dim. Even after she opened her eyes, it was dim. Glints of lights off metal parts gave her some reassurance that she could see. Her body wanted to stay still. She didn't let it.

Adalyn swung her legs over the edge of the bed she was on. She stared at her feet, blurry-eyed, and waited for the blood to come back to her head. The first thing she noticed was the gauze bandage wrapped around her feet. She couldn't remember what had happened, but evidently her feet had taken some issue with whatever it was she'd done. She found more bandages on her arm and hand. More were crossing from shoulder to hip, underarm to shoulder. Whatever had happened, it had been bad. She inhaled deep and felt a stab of pain in her chest. She touched it, feeling more gauze over even that.

She looked level. Her eyes found a light tapper. She slowly stood and touched it. The lights dimmed up and her vision adjusted.

She was surrounded by Alliance props. An Anglo-Sino flag hung over the bed. A standard issue uniform was hanging from the door next to a robe. The Alliance pledge in characters on a parchment scroll hung down by the militaristic vanity. She pulled on the robe and covered her half-clothed self. She didn't want to panic but the idea that she was a prisoner on some Alliance ship made her heart beat faster.

She tried the door. It opened. She peeked out, not seeing uniforms walking nearby. There were voices, but she didn't recognize them. She stepped out. Standard Alliance Hiro-class skiff, she knew that much from the plating and the sleek, unencumbered corridor bulkheads. The command deck would be in the middle of the ship, maybe six or seven decks up. She was low, closer to the base of it. It would be a rush for the escape pods on the bridge, but it was doable.

She darted to a t-junction, peering around a corner. She saw two men in uniform down the way. Neither she recognized mostly 'cause they had the usual helmets on. They had their backs turned to her and the lift was up the corridor. She made a dash for it. She placed her palm on the scanner.

It beeped.

The two men faced her, "Hey!"

She ran. She'd been on a ship like this before. Not too hard to remember. The stairs would lead her up and she'd be able to make it to the bridge. Her heart was pounding and her feet were yelling at her for running so hard. She could hear the soldiers clomping up the stairs behind her when she turned up the next flight. Catching sight of the deck number, she was grateful. She was higher up than she thought.

They were still chasing her when she hit the main deck. She jumped up and grabbed a rafter, pulling herself up so she was above the line of sight of the soldiers when they came around the corner. Her muscles were twitching and her chest felt tight. Whatever she'd done to herself, it wasn't healed.

She waited for them to pass by before moving again and holding onto her chest in pain. She rolled and put her back to the rafter, lying there. She only knew she was crying when her ear got wet. With the soldiers gone but likely going to tell their commanding officer just what had happened, she didn't think there would be much chance to get out.

The door hadn't been locked. She hadn't been in the brig. There weren't enough men to be powering a skiff of this size. Things were off, but it was still Alliance. She clambered over to the next rafter. It was a challenge considering the twitching muscles, but she found herself closer to the bridge. Ten feet above even the tallest, she ignored them and found her attention focused on the pod entrance. Her luck of course that the rafters didn't go all the way across the bridge. Minimal crew. She would be able to fight them off for the twenty feet or so that separated her and freedom. Her vision was getting blurry and dark. Too early for these stunts, she supposed. But she would be able to heal when she got back to _Serenity_. She just had to push a little farther.

She grabbed the rafter tight around the lower edge and jumped.

Landing on the upper deck, she heard the commotion. She stopped dead when Mal stepped in front of her wearing a half-done Alliance uniform. Zoe was next to him in the same getup. She wavered.

"What…"

"Hey, it's okay. It's us."

"Catch her, she's gonna—"

She blacked out. Her body thudded against the deck plating and the others looked at her. Mal sighed.

"Well, that went smooth."

The two soldiers that had chased her came up next to him, "We tried to stop her."

Mal looked to Zoe and shrugged, "I'll get her back down to the room. Call the Doc. Girl looks to be in bad shape. Mayhap she won't run next time she wakes up if'n one of us is with her."

Zoe nodded, "Just thought of that, sir?"

"Well the boy didn't think she'd wake up for another long while!"

"Want me to tell Jayne?"

"No. Give it a little while. Doubt she's ready for any of this. Let alone the family."

He picked her up bride-style and walked down the stairs to the lifts. He watched her the whole time. She was still beautiful. He doubted she'd taken much stock of herself since she'd gone out running, but he would make sure she knew just how beautiful she still was despite the burns. He made it to her room about the same time the Doc did. Boy opened the door for them and Mal put her down on her bed. She hadn't trashed the place, so at least he had some assurance that her head was on right.

"What happened?"

"Ran, looks like. Doubt she expected to wake up in an Alliance ship."

The boy did his thing when Mal moved back out the way. It was a few minutes before Mal finally asked what the what was.

He sighed, "She'll be fine. Better than expected. She popped some stitches on her shoulder, but other than that it's just weakness. Being out for that long… it will do that to a person. Looks like the IV should've stayed in a bit longer. It'll be a while before she gets back the weight. While longer before I'd count on her for a fight."

"Good to know. Not a word to Jayne, you hear? Not no one. Not yet. Girl needs time to adjust 'fore she gets her life thrown at her."

Simon smiled and stood from the bedside, "Lips are sealed. Let me know if she needs me."

The Doc opened the door and Inara was standing there, about to knock. Mal uncrossed his arms the moment she walked in. Simon closed the door behind them. She'd been on the bridge and Mal wasn't too surprised she'd come down.

"Will she be okay?"

"Doc says so."

"Do you want me to talk to her? When she wakes up? It might be easier…"

He stared at her, "Easier for her? Or me?"

She smiled that easy all-knowing smile, "Maybe for you both."

"Should be me."

"Mal…you haven't been able to talk about it since she…you getting angry won't help her deal with the change."

"She's known me longer than you. Like to think I won't do more harm than good."

"Do you want me to stay?" she offered.

"Wouldn't hurt, I s'pose."

She walked up to him, timidly almost, before putting her head to his chest. He held her, watching Adalyn while she slept.

* * *

She'd been through this before. She knew it. She kept her eyes closed because she knew people were in the room with her. Her body still hurt, her shoulder especially, but she wasn't tied. No restraints.

She'd seen Mal on the bridge.

She remembered that. He was in an Alliance outfit. Strange as it was, it had looked good on him. Mostly 'cause he still looked perfectly disheveled, but it wasn't a terrifying look other than the fact that he was wearing it.

She opened her eyes a bit and saw him. He was sitting at the edge of the bed, facing the wall. She followed his line of sight and saw Inara, too. She wasn't dressed different than the last time she'd seen her, but she looked different nonetheless.

Inara was the first to notice her, "Hey, sweetie."

Mal looked at her, too, "Welcome back."

She almost smiled but the fact that they were all on this ship stopped her. She sat up a bit. He helped her but backed away when she finally got upright.

"How you feeling?"

"Confused, for one. Sore for another."

"Be sore for a while longer. But you're safe. Have my word on that."

"You changed your clothes."

He looked at them, like he'd forgotten he'd put on the uniform this morning. Meant he'd been doing it long enough to get used to it, "Yeah, guess I did."

"This is an Alliance skiff."

"Yeah."

"You're the captain. Of the skiff."

"Yeah."

"I'm not a prisoner."

"Not a bit."

"I've been out for a while."

"Yeah. Didn't think you'd be waking up already."

"But you did think I would wake up."

"Not at first. No. Doc did his job good. Didn't mean for you to wake up like that."

She nodded, digesting that, "Maisi? Jayne?"

"Fine. Safe. Just didn't think you'd want them crowding you without the facts first."

"Thanks," she tried to swing her legs over the edge of the bed again but the motion made her double over and wince. She grabbed her ribs, bowing her head. It had definitely been too soon to pull any acrobatics.

Mal steadied her, "Take it easy now. Probably best we get the Doc back here."

"May be a good idea."

Mal nodded at her, looking to Inara. To her shock, he left her side and the room while Inara took up his place on the bed beside her. She stayed hunched, the pain ebbing more now.

"I take it things haven't changed too much other than the Alliance ship?"

Inara smiled, "Nothing too drastic."

"And you two?"

"We're fine. What you did…it helped. But you know how Mal is."

She scoffed, finding it did more harm than good. Lights flashed behind her eyes and she appreciated the gentle hand on her back. She did appreciate Inara staying, but the fact that Mal had left made her wonder just what he was dealing with.

The door opened back up and Simon walked in. Adalyn looked up and gaped. The boy's hair had grown shaggy, no longer coif and polished. He smiled and shook his head a bit from reflex to get strands out of his eyes.

"Hey."

She smiled, "Hey."

Inara stood, "Take care of her."

She walked out, leaving them there. Adalyn almost chuckled. The Doc looked much more the part of a renegade than what he really was. He must've known, because he smiled wider, almost laughed himself.

"Isn't that unhygienic?"

"Like you care?"

"Not too much. Just curious, is all."

"Come on. Let me do my job."

She didn't really care about his parental tone, nor about the fact that she was too exhausted to argue with him. He moved to the bed, sitting on a chair.

"Take your robe off."

She glared at him.

"You know, you were a much easier patient when you were out. I have to see your burns."

She sighed and slowly, painfully, took off the robe. She felt a bit awkward like she was sure she wouldn't have a few years ago for baring most of her body. Her chest was wrapped in gauze but the curves were still more than visible. Not to mention that she was really only in a pair of Jayne's boxer shorts besides.

"Lie down, back to me."

She let herself down, putting him at her back, and curled a bit. For whatever reason, she pulled the covers up to cover her front half.

"This treatment's been helping. You'll need it for a while longer."

"What is it?"

"It's for the scar tissue. Most of your other injuries are healed. You popped some stitches on your shoulder, so I need to see to them. Not bleeding too terribly."

She felt his gentle fingers touch her back and she flinched. His hand pulled away for a moment before going back to her shoulder. Even with the gloves on, she could feel the warmth of his fingertips while he worked on her stitches. The pain of getting the broken ones pulled before he started on some new ones was almost too much. Her skin was sensitized and she hated it. She stayed quiet, not sure if she wanted to talk while he was doing his job. Aside from the gentle tugging on her skin, she could feel her front side tighten with each breath. If there had been a fire, she must've done more than surface damage. Her lungs felt tight, not fully open. And she still felt her head throbbing a bit.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she lied.

"Can you tell me where it hurts?"

"Everywhere."

She could hear him smile, "At least now I get feedback. Almost done with the stitches."

"So how often do you see me naked now?"

His hands tensed for a moment.

"Not a threat. Just asking," she clarified.

"I'm your doctor."

"And?"

"Almost everyday. The treatment needs to be done that much. But it'll keep the scars from being too obvious. You should've seen Jayne. It took some time for him to leave you alone with me when I was doing it. Very protective."

"That's my man."

"Done. I'll need to cut the bandages. I'll do your back first, then your arms and legs. Okay?"

She nodded. The cold blade of medical scissors brushed against her skin at the base of her back before it disappeared. She couldn't feel it for most of her back. The skin had no nerves.

"I can't feel that."

"I'm hopeful that you'll regain all the sensation in your skin. You've done well so far. Considering how long you were out in there, you're lucky."

The gauze went slack and she curled a little tighter, the sheets tight against her chest. She could hear him rummage in a drawer in the nightstand.

"It might be a bit uncomfortable. Let me know if you want something for the pain, okay?"

She nodded, "Thanks."

There was a whine, mechanical and high-pitched, and she yelped when lights flashed behind her eyes.

* * *

_Pain. Small pain, almost nonexistent against the throbs and stings of broken bones and ruptured organs. Those made it hard to concentrate although she was fairly certain there was nothing left to concentrate on. Mal had been allowed near her because she was dying. That simple. She was no longer a threat. Pretty damn nigh to being dead and gone. But there was new, small pain. Then release because she was quite sure Mal had pinpricked her with something. Something to ease dying. She was grateful because it made it easier to see. She could watch him while she died. At least she'd get that small comfort. One friendly face among the coldness of inevitability._

* * *

"Adalyn?"

She gasped. Simon's hand was on her shoulder, waiting.

"I wasn't just out…I was gone. I was dead…"

His hand came off her shoulder and she stared at the wall. He wasn't saying anything. It had been bad, or he would be saying something. It hadn't been just a hiccup. She'd died. She remembered dying. She remembered it.

"You're here now."

"You saved me."

"No. It…I wasn't there."

"Then what…"

"Mal. He yanked you out. Got your heart beating."

"How long was I gone?"

"A while. The internal trauma did some damage, but the fire…You suffocated."

"I don't remember that."

"What's the last thing you do remember?"

Her brow furrowed. It was like a thick mud, her memories. Pushing aside the clutter only resulted in more taking its place. Her hand went to her forehead as though it could help wade through dim thoughts.

"The Operative...I was fighting him. River and...Caleb...they were broadcasting the signal. Mal..."

"What about Mal?"

"Was he there...the whole time?"

"Yeah. He snuck onto your shuttle."

"I...don't remember going down."

Simon's hand gently prodded at her back again, his voice soft, "He won't talk about it, either. I wish I could fill in the blanks after that. All I can tell you is that, when he brought you to me, you were barely here. Most of your body was burned. You weren't exactly recognizable."

She pushed off the bed with her weak hand, sitting upright. The vanity in her sights, she looked at the mirror. She could see Simon behind her. His face was worried, his hands shadowing her in case she wavered.

Her right hand trailed flesh fingers down her face, back up through her hair. A deep red line went from her right temple to her right jawline, cutting her face in a third. Her hair was short, ragged. Her fingers traced down her neck, feeling the even skin that had been burned away and replaced. Across her body to the metallic joint of her left arm. The scar tissue had built up and become red and glossy, malicious tears against her ivory skin. The port itself looked fine, as did the arm attached to it. But the bandages hid what she suspected were more scars across her chest. She looked like she'd been built from scraps. Even her flesh hand sported red souvenirs.

"Frankenstein's monster..."she said idly.

Simon almost smiled, "It's a lot better than it was, you know."

Unbidden, a tear fell from her eye. Simon's almost-smile disappeared and he put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey...it's fine...you're still here."

"Simon...what happened? How long was I out?"

His brow furrowed and they met their reflected gazes in the mirror. At his reluctance, she turned to look directly at him, "Simon...how long?"

He looked down, his throat tightening on him, "Almost...almost a year."

She stared at him, blank. He kept his eyes averted, "You were in a coma for seven months. Even after that, you were touch-and-go for a while longer. Honestly, I'm amazed that you came out of all this with just the injuries you have. We were worried there would be brain damage. If memory loss is all we—"

"What day is it?"

"November 23rd."

She smiled, "I didn't miss it."

He watched her for a moment, "Didn't miss what?"

"Maisi's birthday."


	53. Lost Home

Mal looked at the silver bullet. It was still fresh. Amazing that it had managed to stay with him this entire time. Rolling it around in his palm, he stood outside Adalyn's door. The Doc was working his magic. Getting their assassin back to health. Making damn well sure that she stayed with them this time. He didn't want her to leave. Not after all that had changed.

Would she like this brave, untested 'verse after the pillars had fallen? Knowing she'd helped bring it about. Knowing she'd missed it and yet had inspired it beyond even what he could believe and imagine. There was something that made him smile. Thinking she, for all the sleeping she'd been doing, had helped shape this 'verse. The amazing thing about being a martyr was that you didn't have to be around to get stuff done. No pressure to make a heroic speech or somesuch. Not like she needed to inspect the troops, either. Her name was enough. Just the thought of her, of what she'd done, was enough to get young grunts to defect away from their dear Alliance.

He and his had been right there with her. Their names weren't no less powerful. Only they were alive, walking through this ruse of a ship, and seeing the change one little plan had created.

He closed his palm around the silver bullet and smiled. The 'verse had changed. Now, it was about to get a wake-up call.

* * *

A last stand. She knew what it meant, what it was supposed to accomplish. She just didn't like where it had led them. Things needed to flow just right. The plan needed to look unplanned. They'd all agreed when the local factions had offered shelter that evryone should hide. Even when Adalyn had made mention that it couldn't be her alone out there. After that, it had spiraled. Jayne had to argue about why he couldn't go. Zoe had even made a remark. She didn't like the idea of her captain going out anymore than Adalyn did. But the hook needed to be baited correctly. And, reluctantly, they had known it wouldn't even look real if it were just Adalyn and Mal.

Kaylee had volunteered.

They all stared, stunned. Adalyn was the first to straighten, "You go out there with us, you're looking for trouble."

"I know. And I know I ain't a fighter. But this needs to work."

"She's right. Our counterpart would never consider someone so untainted as part of the bait," the Operative agreed, his logic sound and the angry glances silent because of it.

"You can't be considering taking her out there," Simon spoke up.

"Who then? You? River? He'd kill both of you if you got in his way. Kaylee..." Adalyn trailed off.

"I could get her out of there soon as trouble shows itself," Mal agreed.

"He might start with you. To distract Adalyn," Simon pointed out.

"No. He's gonna go for the throat. Man's tired of chasing. No more messing around. He'll go for Addy straight off."

The assassin nodded, "Most likely. And when he does, you two run. Get back to _Serenity_."

"You think he'll leave the boat alone?"

Adalyn looked at her captain and couldn't answer.

* * *

It wasn't like they were really shopping. They'd just decided to do whatever they could to pass the time. This was the second day in a row the three of them had gone out, wriggling on the invisible hook. And, with the first few tense hours over with, Mal wasn't sure how many more casts of this line he could take.

"Oooh! I didn't see this yesterday," Kaylee picked up a piece that Mal admittedly didn't know a thing about.

He just rolled his eyes while Adalyn sighed and gave a sisterly smile, "Because you were too busy being paranoid," she allowed.

"Can I get it?"

It took a moment for Mal to realize she was asking him. He shrugged, "Your cashy, _xiao mei mei_. Your call."

She handed it off to the shop keep and asked her to pack it up. Reaching deep into her pockets, she pulled out the notes to cover the price tag. Adalyn peered over her shoulder, amused that the girl would spend more on a single tool than on anything else...even food.

"You think you're going overboard here?"

Kaylee shook her head, "Nah. Still have some of the cashy you left for us. Not dipping into the ship's stock or nothing."

"You managed to save it?"

"_Shi a_."

"Wow. Thought you would've spent it ten times over by now."

"Well, Jayne did. And the lot for the ship we banked into new parts, but I still got a good stash of mine. Simon and River, too. Saving it for the emergencies. When things get lean again."

"What she means is, when she finds a new tool I won't let her buy," Mal loudly whispered into Adalyn's ear.

Kaylee delivered a playful little punch and Mal brushed it off. Stuffing her purchase into her bag, she moved along to the next stall that was full of more mechanical items neither Mal nor Adalyn had a real care for.

"If this man don't show up soon, don't think I can handle much more of the shopping. She'll spend every red penny she can lay claim to if we let her."

Adalyn shrugged, "It may be the last time she gets to shop for a long while. So indulge her. You think I'm any more keen on leaving Maisi alone for this long every day? God only knows how many treats Jayne's letting her have."

Mal gave a little chuckle, looking around the crowded marketplace. There were enough people to hide one familiar face and even then, Mal was sure the Operative would choose to lunge from some shadow or another.

Adalyn started walking along, catching up to the young mechanic who'd wandered a few stalls away. Even with the threat of a fight looming over all their heads, Adalyn had managed to stay calmer than usual. It was though motherhood had leveled her already methodical head to some underground level of groundedness. He trudged along behind her, grateful she was at least able to act like they weren't being hunted.

Except they were.

The first shot did some damage. Adalyn cursed, grabbing tight onto her right upper arm to staunch the blood flow. She leaned against the stall, looking around for the source of the shot. Mal rushed up next to her and steadied her. She pushed him aside and started running opposite the direction Kaylee had walked off. Jaw set, he made a grab for the young mechanic and started running. He hated turning his back on her again. Hated that he had no idea what might be happening behind his back. But this was the plan. It was all he could do to follow it.

He skid to a halt, Kaylee bumping into him. The Operative, gun leveled, was smiling at them. The crowds had parted because of the gun, leaving him a clear shot. Pushing his mechanic behind him, he waited.

"You're the weakness, aren't you?" the man smiled.

Adalyn jumped on him from a rooftop; the gun fired off into the ground and they both tumbled. Getting her feet under her quicker, Adalyn landed a swift kick to the Operative's stomach. He caught it and yanked, pulling her off balance and bringing her to the ground again. Mal watched for one moment longer to see her bring her other leg around to put heel against temple.

Making sure to keep Kaylee's hand in his, he ran again while the two weapons were locked in a fight. Running through the crowd seemed harder than it had been a moment ago. He could hear a shriek above him and he looked up to see fighters dipping low to the ground. The mil-jets were loaded. He could see the weapons under them as they blew past him and his mechanic.

He watched them head towards _Serenity_'s docks at the other end of town.

* * *

Adalyn had instinctively ducked when the fighter jets blasted past. It had cost her a precious moment that the Operative had capitalized on. His foot came into her face and planted on her temple. She went down into the dirt. Rolling onto her back, she forced herself to roll backwards over her shoulder to get away from the katana the weapon had pulled on her. Standing, blood running down her face, she stared at the silver blade.

"Did you really think I'd come without backup this time?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed and she wasn't sure where to look for the attack until she felt the ground tumble. She waved her arms about to regain her balance. Looking behind her, she saw the black plumes of smoke coming from the Southside Docks.

Her home...

She looked back at him and he smiled, "Hard to keep running when your little ship is blown to smithereens, isn't it?"

Her jaw tightly clenched, she pulled her gun. He ducked to one side, into the stands, and she ignored the pedestrians and started shooting. She missed them, aiming for the man's head as it ducked behind trinkets and baubles. They exploded from her aim and she continued firing until the first magazine was emptied. Releasing it, she reached for another and yelped when it was shot from her hand. She watched it land across the plaza, a bullet lodged in it the wrong way. She looked for the source to see fully armed soldiers running towards her.

She ran. She jumped atop the nearest stand before jumping higher to the canvas-topped awnings that ran around the plaza. Out of the crowds, she could move faster. Shots ricocheted off stone buildings behind her and she didn't bother looking back to see if they were being delayed by the crowds. Finding an easier way out, she threw herself back to the ground and threw up the kickstand to a rocket bike. Wrapping her hands around the bars, she threw up a thick shield of dirt before taking off. Pivoting on the front wheel, she whipped the bike around to head straight into the soldiers that were firing at her.

Bullets tore through the windshield, shattering it. But it was enough to deflect the shots and keep her body safe. Molded onto the seat, lying flat, she was as streamlined as the bike itself. The soldiers didn't give her way until she was close enough to see their eyeballs go wide in shock. The crowds parted for the revving engine and she sped off towards the black smoke clouds.


	54. Lost in Red and White

**A/N: Deus ex Machina - got bored ;-)**

* * *

Mal looked around furiously, trying to find mother and child in the upheaval. He wasn't about the let them disappear. He wasn't about to lose them. And sure as anything he wasn't about to let this become like Beylix. He wouldn't let them stay behind just because the world had decided to throw them for a loop.

He wouldn't let Adalyn face down Reavers alone

* * *

The breeze was refreshing. Walking slower than usual with Maisi at her side, Adalyn just enjoyed the stalls full of wares and trinkets. Maisi had already begged to get her quota for the day and it was worth the few bits to see her daughter smile and hug the new toy tightly. Adalyn wasn't entirely sure of what it was, but it looked like a whale. A wooden whale with a hinged mouth and tail. It had been hand carved and polished up. She couldn't see the beauty of it, but Maisi had found it appealing enough to make those perfected little puppy dog eyes.

Giving in had been easier than dealing with the guilt. Besides, she could afford it for now and until she couldn't, she was willing to spoil her child.

Holding hands, strolling through bustling streets...this was what life was supposed to be like. This was what her world should've revolved around all along. Adalyn smiled because, for once, she felt like a mother.

Caught in the joy of having her new wooden trinket, Maisi didn't notice anything out of the ordinary when her mother stopped abruptly. She only continued to play.

Adalyn knew there weren't supposed to be boats flying this close to the market. The docks were a few miles away. And the oncoming roar of an engine was enough to catch her attention. Still holding tight onto her daughter's hand, she stopped and looked around. The sound of the engine was loud, oncoming fast. The not-so-distant plume of black, acrid smoke made her heart stop and sink deep into her chest.

She grabbed Maisi in both hands and started running. Leaving the main road, she headed between buildings. There was no chance of making it back to _Serenity_. Aside from heading straight into the oncoming chaos, the thick coat of snow on the ground of less-traveled roads would hinder her while she carried Maisi.

"Mommy!" Maisi sighed in exasperation.

Adalyn only hugged her tighter to her chest, trudging through the snow to find the deeper alleyways. Finding a storm hatch door to a basement, she shifted Maisi to the crook of her right arm and gave the lock one swift hit with the metal fist of the left. The lock broke and she threw one side of the doors open, climbing down frozen steps before reaching up to close the door again.

She heard the screams.

She jammed the locking bar across the rotten planks of the door, reaching around in the darkness for another brace.

"Mommy...I can't see!"

"Shh, sweetie. I need you to be quiet," she whispered.

Maisi's eyes widened a bit, "Mommy? Is it a bomb?"

Adalyn kept her hold tight on her child, backing deep into the cellar and keeping her eyes trained on the wooden door. Finding a corner that didn't have a snow bank in it, she sat in the frozen dirt and felt cold stone against her back more reassuring than the darkness that welcomed her front. The crawlspace was small, low, and she cursed the bump on her head she hadn't realized she'd gotten until it started throbbing.

"Yes, sweetie."

"But...we're safe now? Right?"

She shook her head, "Be very, very quiet. We can't talk."

"But—"

"Maisi, honey, if we talk, the bomb could go off."

Her daughter's eyes watered up a bit and she grabbed tight onto Adalyn's thick coat. Her daughter flinched when a scream shattered the quiet. Tiny fists wrapped tighter into fur and leather, the mittens curling against Adalyn's lapels. Sitting her daughter across her lap and wrapping her arms fully around her, Adalyn rocked, dotting kisses to the child's forehead and temple. The screams got louder. Closer. With one ear pressed over her heart, Adalyn quickly smothered the other one with her gloved hand.

"Mommy..." she whimpered.

Adalyn didn't say anything, only held her tighter and brought her knees up to make a fortress around her daughter's shivering body. Her eyes never wavered off the dead-bolted door. Her body never relaxed. Just methodically rocked while she listened to screams outside. Jayne looked at Mal. Stared at him. Stared at the thick free weight in his own hand. The captain was face down on the cargo bay of _Serenity_. And Jayne wasn't rightly sure why he'd stopped the man from doing something he, himself, was wanting to do.

* * *

Simon yanked the weight away, "What's wrong with you!"

Jayne gave a glance at Zoe. The first mate, for whatever reason, had never put her hand on her gun. She'd looked ready to knock Mal flat herself if Jayne hadn't up and done it. She looked to River.

"Get us out of here."

"You can't!" Kaylee screamed.

River ran to the cockpit. Zoe followed. Kaylee watched them go, eyes watering over, "You can't leave them!"

Simon threw the weight into a corner, still fuming at Jayne, "That's your daughter out there, dammit!"

Jayne matched his gaze, "You think I don't know that?"

Simon just stared at him, blank, "You..."

"She wouldn't wanted us to. She'd've told us to leave," Jayne said, not sure he was entirely convinced.

"And you're just going to?"

"She'll be all right," Jayne wasn't looked at the doctor any more.

Simon's incredulous face turned into disgust and he stormed away to take the stairs two at a time. Kaylee ran after him. The ship shuddered and jolted while River piloted away from the imminent destruction.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a shuttle."

"Simon..."

"She stayed behind for me."

Zoe walked down from the stairs above, "You're not going anywhere."

Simon spun on her, "Like hell I'm not."

"You honestly think you'd survive one minute out there?"

"She's out there alone!"

"Adalyn's no fool. She'd well hidden by now. Best we can do is make sure that when the coast is clear, we're there to find her."

"She has Maisi with her. They're out there with those monsters!"

"You're not leaving this boat. That's an order."

Simon glared at her, fists clenching and unclenching while his shoulders tightened under his sweater. Zoe just stared right back, solid and placid.

"She'll survive, Doc. We need to do the same."

Kaylee's hand rested on his shoulder and he exhaled for a long moment. Sparing a look at Jayne, still unmoving, he brushed past the first mate to head towards the upper end of the ship. Kaylee followed. Zoe watched them go for a brief second before walking towards Jayne. The mercenary seemed more sick at the notion of choosing to leave her behind than anything else. Kneeling next to her unconscious captain, she looked up at the broad man. His blue eyes were muddled with guilt.

"She'll be okay, Jayne."

"Ain't that I worried on."

"She'd want us to leave orbit."

He nodded unconvincingly.

"She'd want you to do this."

His eyes met hers and she swore, for a moment, that she saw tears ready to overflow them. He looked away and his fists tightened around air.

"She made me...made me swear to look after them all if'n she weren't here to do it."

Zoe stood, satisfied that the captain would be up sooner than later to find that his attempt at rescuing Adalyn had been cut off prematurely. She put one hand on Jayne's shoulder. His head slumped a bit and she took that as enough of a sign that he needed to be alone.

"She'd be proud of you, Jayne."

Walking off, she swore she heard a choked sob. Blackness and silence punctuated by screams. Her rocking hadn't stopped. Her daughter hadn't stopped trembling. The onslaught hadn't ended. She could only listen with wide, alert eyes. She jumped and felt her daughter muffle a cry when the sound of a door being blasted open was too close for comfort. It wasn't her door, but it was too close.

* * *

The footsteps racing against the rickety floorboards above her head told her just where the Reavers had invaded. Dust fell from between the planks. The screams were louder, closer. She could hear the guttural coughs and screeches that marked the beasts for what they were. Covering her daughter's ears even tighter, she heard the slice of metal through bone, teeth through flesh. The woman upstairs begged to God, to her husband. Her plea was cut off in mid scream, muffled by a hand over her mouth. The plea turned into a scream, sobs welling up from deep within her body. The gnarling of ravaging monsters feeding on pain and flesh...

Blood started dripping through the small cracks between floorboards.

Adalyn was no stranger to blood. Nor to screams, for that matter. After she'd left _Serenity_, things had been far too much like some screen pic. Guerrilla warfare, bodies littering her vision. Anything to break free from the Alliance. But those had been folk prepared to die. Folk who were willing to give their life up if it was called for.

The civilians upstairs, screams muffled by vicious hands, hadn't signed up to be ended in such a horrid way.

Her daughter looked up at her, wide eyes brimming with tears. No matter how secure her hands over her daughter's ears, there was no shielding her from the onslaught of incessant screams.

Her own bottom lip started to bleed as she bit through it, tense and unwilling to be anything but. She counted the rounds in her PSR and her Dolly's. They would be hard to reach with the layers on, but they would keep things simple. She counted her footsteps from the hatch door to the corner she now rocked in. In those steps, the Reavers would give her an opening. She could maybe take out half a dozen before they got too close. Before they overpowered her. Aiming with a shaking hand, she told herself it would take two bullets to down each one. That left her with a full magazine in her Dolly. More than enough to end her own life and her daughter's.

She wouldn't let her daughter die screaming. Not like the shrill pleas that continued to pierce her right to her gut. She could hear the gurgling of salivating mouths as they chewed on flesh. The sound of repetitive thrusting, inhuman garbles and grunts hitting her full on with each bestial violation of a battered body. Wet splatters hit her on her face and she whimpered, her daughter burying herself into her mother's coat and fortress of arms and knees. The warmth from the seeping blood above cooled, reminded her of the frigid cold they were stuck in. Her left shoulder was already painfully tight, the cold metal attached to it seeping warmth from her body faster than her shivering could replace. The metal rattled and she tested her fist. It wasn't responding quick enough. The hydraulics weren't meant for frozen walls and corners in dank basements. Hypothermia would set in quick. She would freeze to death even with her coat. If the Reavers and her own bullets didn't get to her first.

She pulled her knees tighter, clutching her hand over her daughter's exposed ear and leaning down to put cheek to crown. Her daughter, brave child, just held fast. They rocked in silence, the blood dripping from the ceiling and the darkness of evening's call bathing them in opened his eyes, instantly regretting the seemingly innocent notion of being able to see. He welded them shut again, hand quickly coming up to protect them even beyond that. His head throbbed, his heart stuck between his ears and his stomach unsure of which way was up.

* * *

"Cap'n?"

The sweet, gentle voice...

"Kaylee?"

"Hey..."

Her hand took his and even that small difference in brightness made his face prune tighter, "What happened?"

She was quiet. He tried to run things through his head. Shipping routes...markets...black smoke...

"Where's Addy?" he bolted upright, yanking his hand from hers to quickly brace his head that he was sure was going to fall off any second.

"We don't know."

He looked at her with squinting eyes. She was sniffling, had been crying, and looked ready to start crying again.

"We don't know," she repeated, burying her face into her hands.

He leaned forward, wrapping her in his arms. The bright light coming from the infirmary didn't matter anymore, the fact that he'd been laid out on the common couch was irrelevant. Kaylee was crying. And that meant he had to fix it.

"We just left 'em..." she sobbed.

His heart sank. He wanted to retch. He didn't know why they weren't storming the gates of Alliance-created hell at the moment, but from the vibration along his body courtesy of his boat, he knew they were gone. He would deal with airlocks and floggings later.

"They're safe, li'l Kaylee. You know it, same as me."

She only sobbed harder.

"We'll get them back."

He let her cry another minute before pulling back and making her red and swollen face look him in his, "Listen t'me. We're getting them back. One thing I know: It'll take a lot more'n Reavers to stop Addy."The screaming had stopped. The blood hadn't. It still dripped from an abandoned body, fun and demented sport long since gone. She still rocked, the constant stream of blood keeping her face warm as it fell. But even that was being lost to the smothering cold. Now, it wasn't even warm enough to register on her cheek. She could only feel the occasional pressure. The steady sound of the drop hitting skin. She wasn't sure how long the screams had been silenced.

* * *

Maisi still clung to her, waiting. She didn't dare move or speak. They'd gone undetected so far, the Reavers more interested in those who were above them. The occasional howl and mechanical whine kept mother and child alert. The blood had drained down her cheek, deep into her shirt. She could feel it, gelatinous and sticky and cool against her neck and chest. The average human boasted...how many pints of blood? She couldn't remember. The cold kept something so vital as a weakness in anatomy from being common knowledge. She knew and she knew she did. She just couldn't remember.

If they found her, she wouldn't have the strength now to fight back. She doubted she would even be able to move much more than reaching to her thigh to retrieve her Dolly. Her body was losing the fight against her prosthetic arm. And she doubted she'd even be able to fire off both rounds needed. It would be just one. She would have the dexterity to fire just one. If she angled it just right...into the temple and at the angle she was at...she would bleed out within a half hour. One shot would save her daughter and at least keep her own torment from being prolonged. One shot would be all she could manage. It would be the last gift she could give to her daughter.

And the more she looked at it, the more she wasn't sure if it was a whale or a dolphin that had been carved from the wood. The trinket had stayed tucked between Maisi's chest and knees, just like she herself stayed tucked between her mother's.

The sun had set; that was the only indication to Adalyn how long they'd been stuck. Four, maybe five hours. More than enough time for the Reavers to have their fun. The sounds had died down, intermittent screams here and there. By morning, they would be gone, heading back to their corner of the 'verse. The passing of a few engines here and there made her cry a little with relief. They were packing up. Making their last rounds and packing up. There was no doubt in Adalyn's mind that she would end up staying in the frozen basement, but knowing that the screams would finally, truly stop was enough to pry a tear from her eye.

Her daughter gave a little tug on her jacket sleeve. Adalyn looked down at her. Those big, blue eyes were asking her all the things her voice couldn't. All Adalyn could offer was a shake of her head. Maisi nodded and buried her face back into the jacket. Adalyn bit her lip again.

What child needed to understand that talking meant death? What child should have to understand the subtleties of being a prisoner, or a hostage, or a refugee? She'd thought leaving _Serenity_ had been for the best. But war had followed her. War. Malicious and unbiased. Her daughter knew that silence was the key to survival and that, when bombs were around, to be perfectly still. What kind of mother could not be proud of such a smart child and disappointed in herself?

A skiff broke the silence overhead, the roaring engine and sputtering gaskets making both mother and child jump. But nothing more. The cries and shouts faded, leaving Adalyn distinctly and increasingly aware that her metal arm was still rattling. Mal sipped down the tea that he'd been offered. Just hearing from the Doc was enough to make him cold; just knowing what was happening down on that planet made his gut turn over. Tea was all he could manage.

* * *

"How long?" Jayne asked.

Simon glared at him, "Eight, maybe twelve hours. After that..."

"She won't be able to start a fire, either," Zoe added.

"Can't she just...take it off? So it don't drain her like that?" Jayne asked.

Kaylee shook her head, "Don't think she can do it herself. Had to have me unclasp it last time."

"So, soon as we get a clear sail, we go in. Find her," Mal swallowed down a mouthful of steaming tea.

"We go in too soon, we're bound to find trouble," Zoe said tersely.

"If we wait too long, she'll freeze to death," Simon snapped.

"What about Maisi?" Kaylee asked.

The doctor sighed, "She'll last longer. The prosthetic is what we're racing against. It doesn't generate heat. It'll literally leech Adalyn's body heat away from her. More so than just the air."

Mal shook his head. It would take something more than Reavers to stop Adalyn. Jayne paced his room, Vera already loaded. He'd alternated between watching his clock and counting his rounds. The moment they knew it was clear, they were heading back. Turn the boat around and get back to ground. Sitting on the bed again and clutching Vera tight to his chest, he sat there. The ladder door kicked open and he stood. When the intruder didn't say a word, didn't give the call to gear up, he knew who it was.

* * *

Mal staggered down, one hand on the back of his head where a large lump had shown itself. The captain looked around the room, hands dropping to his hips. Jayne sat, Vera still in his arms.

"Hear tell you knocked me flat with a free weight," Mal said conversationally.

"Did what Adalyn would'a done. She wouldn't'a let you go."

Mal nodded, "And you think she would've been free'n clear for it?"

"Think she would'a hit you harder," Jayne met the focused glare.

"That's your daughter down there, Jayne."

He threw his gun across the room. Noticed how Mal's hand went to his sidearm when he stood up with the throw.

"You think I don't hate what I done?" he shouted.

"Think you didn't think at all."

"Day she left, she made me swear to watch over your sorry ass!"

Mal stayed quiet, hand leaving the vicinity of his pistol.

"Asked me, begged me, that not a thing would happen to this crew I didn't fight!"

"Jayne..."

"You think I wanted t'just up'n leave?"

"I think you could've done without the free-weight. And without the shouting," he added, hand to his temple.

"You gotta space me, fine! I did what she would'a done."

Hand still ineffectively shielding his sore brain, Mal nodded, "I know. Didn't come down here to space you, either. Came down here to thank you."

Jayne's brow furrowed.

"Came t'say thanks. Likely more'n not you saved my life. Can't say I much appreciate how you done it, but...Addy was right to ask you for that."

Jayne nodded, face unfurling, "How long 'til we head out?"

"Don't know. Haven't gotten news they've left yet. Not a vessel seen them pass back the way they came. Don't know," was all he could say.

"We leave her out there, she's gonna freeze."

"I know. Which is why we ain't leaving her."

"How we s'posed to find her? She ain't got a comm, no tracer...nothing."

"She'll want to be found. She'll figure out a way and we'll follow the trail."The gentle tugging woke her up. She snapped her head back to the upright position it should've been in. Blinking away the beckoning sleep, Adalyn looked down at her daughter. The youngster had been crying and Addy hated to think her being half-unconscious had caused it more than anything else.

* * *

"Maisi..."

"Mommy...you can't sweep!"

"I know, baby. I know."

"We can sing?"

She nodded, "Y...yeah...what're we singing?"

"Li'l light of mine!"

She gave a half-dead smile, "Sure. You start."

The toddler seemed accomplished, her mother revived, and started softly singing the tune. Even that was hard to register through the frozen haze covering Adalyn's brain. But she managed to hum along and keep her daughter occupied. They sang, the thick walls absorbing the sounds. Adalyn looked back up to see that the blood which had fallen earlier was now slower, but still flowing. It was still wet. Which, looking to the puddles that had formed around her, not to mention the blood on her clothes, was a step in the right direction. The blood near her had frozen, slick and taunting. But the blood above...it was still thawed out.

The heat.

She tried to shift a bit. Her prosthetic arm wasn't even moving. Wincing, it felt like it had frozen when the blood had seeped between the joints and solidified. She tugged at her shoulder and felt it move about as well as a waterlogged tree trunk. Maisi noticed her mother's motions and tugged on it gently, trying to help.

They kept singing.

Pushing forward, Adalyn finally felt the limb move enough to be in clear view. As she had suspected, the blood which had dripped relentlessly had found its way into the nooks and crannies of her metallic arm and had frozen between the wires and joints, making it all but useless. The hydraulics and the oils inside might be viable, but she didn't have the strength to crack the red ice which had formed. She sighed, looking with a weak smile to her daughter.

"I need you to do something for me."

At her daughter's eager nod, she continued, "Grab my gun, sweetie."

"Not s'posed to touch mommy's shinies," she reminded her mother.

"I know. But this time it's okay. Just make sure not to squeeze it tight. Be gentle," she said softly.

Her daughter leaned forward and reached for the holster on her thigh. The gun slid out and clanked against the frozen ground. Leaning farther over, her daughter managed to pick it up, mimicking her mother's dextrous grip for what it usually was.

Flexing her right hand, she held it out. Maisi laid the gun in her hand and Adalyn's face scrunched up when she tried to keep a firm hold of it. It was heavy and her fingers were numb. But she managed to hook one finger through the trigger.

"Help mommy lift it," she asked.

With her daughter's help, she was able to raise the gun over her head and aim towards the floorboards above them. It was only a few feet. Nothing terribly high. And with her daughter supporting her weak arm by the elbow, she knew she could make the shot.

"I'm gonna shoot, okay? It'll be loud, but you keep your hands on my arm."

Maisi nodded, burrowing her head into her mother's chest a bit to stifle the sounds that were about to issue from the gun. Forcing her hand to cooperate, Adalyn fired off the first round. It blew a decent-sized hole into the wooden floorboards. She could see the body above. She had enough shots. That much her mind was able to discern. Changing her angle just enough, she fired off another round. The floorboards creaked as the corpse's weight was given less support. Again, she shifted her hand and fired again. The third hole was a bit smaller for the angle and she could feel her heart thumping double-time to keep blooding pumping to her outstretched hand.

The fourth shot, and the fifth, did more damage to the supporting beams. The next shot did the trick. The body fell through the floor and the boards gave way to reveal a large hole. The body dropped and landed in a heap about the time her hand fell, the strain too much. Maisi was still pressing her head into Adalyn's chest, her eyes averted from the mutilated corpse.

Her head lolling, her vision gray, Adalyn rested her eyes and felt her heart slow again.

"Maisi...you need to climb up," she whispered.

"Too high."

"No. You need to find a stool or a box. You're brave...you can climb up there."

The toddler shook her head again, "Mm-mmm."

"Please, Maisi. You need to climb up there."

"You gonna climb?"

"No...mommy's tired. But if you climb up, you can get warm."

"You need be warm, too."

"You first. Please, baby. Find a way to climb up."

Adalyn watched, her vision not coming back well, if at all, while her daughter slid off her lap and scavenged for some boxes. Proud tears falling from her eyes, the assassin watched the way her daughter was able to stack them just so and make a small staircase that would lead up to the hole. Empty crates and cartons, they were light enough and just big enough for the child. Adalyn's lips curled up and she felt her vision come back ever so much better, letting her watch the little girl start to climb up the makeshift stairway.

Maisi rolled up onto the floorboards above and Adalyn couldn't see much more for the angle she was at. But even now she could feel just the slightest breeze, the warm air moving around enough to jostle the frigid air trapped below the floor boards. It wouldn't be enough to get her warm, but she was at least assured that the heat was on above and her daughter would be warm.

"Your turn."

"I can't, sweetie," Adalyn admitted. Even the stunt with the gun had drained her. Her body was stiff and unresponsive. Her metal arm hung dead at her side.

Her eyes drifting closed on her, Adalyn snapped them back open and blinked, "Maisi, put stuff in the fireplace."

"Why?"

"We need to make smoke, baby."

"Why?"

"So Captain Mal can find us."

"They find us soon?"

"Yeah. They will."

She could hear little footsteps. The fire hadn't completely gone out and hopefully anything her daughter put on the coals would ignite and produce some kind of smoke. She didn't have the luxury of seeing what was available and even if she did, she wasn't sure her brain could do much more than recognize it. Each breath in was a fight. Each time she exhaled, she felt her body go even more limp, slack further against the icy wall. Her eyes caught sight of the body that had fallen. Nothing was really recognizable as a face. Just meat, and some clumps of hair. The hands had been gnawed at relentlessly. The chest was bitten through. If Maisi did realize what it was that had fallen through the floorboards, she'd be hard pressed to recognize it as anything more.

Those little footsteps walked back and forth across the room, each pathway ending at the other end of the room. Fighting with her own body, Adalyn tried to straighten, to pull herself up enough to move forward. Up those crates, and she would at least have some chance of surviving the hypothermia her body was succumbing to.

Her legs weren't moving. No part of her was. Even as she fought, sent the signals out from her brain, nothing happened. Unbidden, a new tear fell from her eye and she gave a harsh little exhale.

"Maisi..." she rasped out.

Those little footsteps came back and she could just barely see the little snowboots at the edge of the hole.

"Mommy?"

"You need to stay up there. You do...do that and we'll be safe. When Captain Mal comes...to find us...you need to be up there...okay?"

" 'Kay."

"Can you find any protein?"

"You hungry, mommy?"

"For you, silly. You need to eat. Eat something and put the trash on the fire, okay?"

"Smokes real good. Colors."

Adalyn's brow furrowed...colors? Her mind took a minute to recognize the idea as the starter logs that some were able to afford. They made colorful flames, even colorful smoke for the fun of it. At least that was on their side.

"Good girl, sweetie. Go eat, okay?"

"Bring you some."

"No. No you...you stay up there. You can't come down. Otherwise Captain...Mal won't find us..."

"Okay. Want to sing?"

"Eat first, sweetie. Then you can sing me to sleep."

"I found snacks!" her daughter squealed.

"Good. Eat up. Before dinner...you can have them first..."

It was quiet for a long while and Adalyn blinked her eyes away from falling shut. She was sure that if they closed, they wouldn't open. And if that was going to happen, she was going to listen to her daughter's soothing melody. She wanted to hear something warm. She would compete with her body to get that privilege. Choosing how she died. What she heard.

The screaming was done with. And dying to the sound of her darling child singing her favorite song was the best way she could think of leaving. The moment _Serenity_ was able to get close to the frozen world, River was scanning for power. For anomalies. For something they could track. Jayne was standing over her shoulder with Vera attached to his hands. Mal was on the other seat in the bridge, eyes peeling the horizon for anything they could find. They'd circled around the vicinity of where they'd all been twice over. The sun had risen an hour ago and now they had some better light to search by. But even then, it was getting close to twenty hours.

* * *

They were the first ship to come back. Despite the silence, they came back. Mal, and Jayne, wouldn't wait for the medical ships to land first. They were going in, caution be damned.

"What's that?" Kaylee asked, pointing.

They all followed the gaze to see some small wisps of smoke. It was green. It looked like the tail end of a chromalog, used up overnight. With all the smoke around it, it had been hard to distinguish during their pre-dawn searching. Even now, it was nothing spectacular.

"We should check it out," Zoe added.

Mal looked to River and the young pilot found them a small clearing in the adjacent marketplace.

"Jayne, Doc: suit up. Zoe, keep her running."

The first mate nodded and took Mal's seat when he left it to follow the other two off the bridge.

River stood, "I should come."

They all looked at her, "You think you can find them quicker?" Mal asked.

"More perceptive."

Mal sighed, "Can you hear her now?"

River's brow furrowed and she shook her head. Swallowing hard, Mal started walking again, "Then you ain't coming."

Her hands wringing together, River stood there like a forgotten statue, her deep eyes watering over. Having to look up into the bright sun every few moments to relocate the single colored plume of smoke amongst the smoldering ruins, the three men were forced to climb over bodies that had frozen overnight. The blood puddled and made little red lakes in the snow and dirt. Eyeballs had frosted over, giving each pair the look of cataracts. White icicles clung to clothes and flesh.

* * *

Simon was the first to stop, his body going rigid. Jayne and Mal watched him for a moment.

The doctor bolted off down a side road, following an awkward path to a small side-cellar door. He could see the impact where a weapon had made contact with the wood. He pounded on it with his foot, off balance and pinwheeling his arms to keep from going down. Mal and Jayne caught up and Jayne leveled Vera without hesitation and fired a few rounds to blast through whatever was propping the door closed.

The bulky man was the first one down and he cursed when he hit his head on a strut for the floor above them. Recovering, he saw Adalyn and Maisi.

The child was shaking, covering her head and curled up next to her mother's side. Jayne dropped Vera and ran closer, hunched over to keep from hitting his head again.

"Maisi-girl..."

Unveiling her face, the child looked up to him with a tear-streaked face, "Mommy won't wake up!"

Simon was already at the other side of Adalyn's slumped body. Reaching for her neck, he ignored Jayne's pleading look.

"She okay?" the merc asked.

"Take care of your daughter."

"She okay?"

Simon glared at him, "Get Maisi back to the ship. We'll follow."

"But is she—"

"Now," Simon's voice was low and soft.

Jayne's fierce blue eyes met the doc's and, for a moment, they didn't say anything. But Jayne looked to Maisi and lifted her up, opening his jacket to tuck her partially inside.

"Don't you worry about mommy. Doc's gonna wake her up," he said.

But the toddler continued to let tears flow down her face even as Jayne held her warm and tight to his front. Mal knelt down by the blue figure and looked to Simon.

"She alive?"

"I don't know."

Mal's brows rose, "You don't know?"

Jaw set and chewing on the inside of his cheek, Simon's gaze was set on the pale blue face, "She's not dead until she's not frozen."

"Come again?"

"I'm not going to say she's dead until we warm her up. If...if there's no pulse after that...then she's...but not until after that."

Mal reached to pick her up and when he went to heft her up, he exhaled sharply, "She's got to be heavier."

Simon looked to the metal arm and tried to pry at the joints only to find an accumulation of blood and ice and ruptured lines, "It's frozen solid."

"Take it off."

Unlatching it, the doc gave a gentle yank and felt the resistance from the ice bonding it together. He gave another yank and he could hear the snapping of frozen lines and icicles. Another hard tug and it came free, damaged but fixable. Mal lifted her again and carried her bridal style to the doorway. Trudging through the narrow line of trounced snow, he carried the frozen body back home.


	55. Lost Parent

She had a responsibility. The problem was that, in reality, she had more than just one. She watched Zoe and Jayne arm up. They never spared her a glance to see if she was doing the same. She just stared, watched, and knew she couldn't leave the ship. Not with the burden she bore. Even for Mal, she couldn't leave the ship.

She couldn't leave Maisi.

Her daughter was tucked away in bed. But that didn't mean Adalyn could just leave her there. Not when there was no guarantee that she would be coming back. She couldn't take that chance.

Zoe finally looked at her, hesitating to ask the question but asking it nonetheless, "You're not coming," it was more a statement.

She shook her head, "I can't."

"We need you on this."

"I'm needed here."

Whether it was kindling maternal instinct or disappointment that made Zoe nod once, tersely, Adalyn wasn't sure. Her heart fell deep into her stomach and her mind was making the room spin. Her PSR was right in the room downstairs. She could easily grab it, go save Mal and be back before her daughter woke up from her nap. It was doable. It was possible.

But one bullet would make Maisi an orphan.

She wasn't ready to let that happen. Not when she could stay safe and make sure it didn't happen. One day, fate would take its toll and she would be alone. But for now, Adalyn was willing to do everything in her power to keep that fee at bay.


End file.
